


Starfire's Clean, Wholesome Marriage to a 3-4 Year Old Cumtank

by Tas_tan



Category: Teen Titans (Animated Series)
Genre: /ss/, Anal, Breeding, Cum Inflation, F/M, Fat Ass, Hard Facial, Shota, Size Difference, Sloppy, Sweat, Vomit, detailed insemination, facefuck, gape, handjob, heart pupils, minor prolapse, musk, onee/shota, semen consistency
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:42:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 35,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22327291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tas_tan/pseuds/Tas_tan
Summary: On her best friend's recommendation, Starfire lives out some part of her young adult life in Jump City married to a 3-4 year old and dressing like a sexualized thot. Surely the average day for her whilst living such a lifestyle won't be riddled with naive degeneracy and her puking cum all over herself.Surely not--fuck no.
Relationships: Starfire/Some 3-4 Year Old
Comments: 5
Kudos: 90





	1. Chapter 1

Across the face of all televisions tuned to channel ‘4’ was a suited representative from Jump City’s news broadcasting team.

Who he was exactly was difficult to determine at a glance. Somehow, he seemed to be both an individual and an automaton at the same time; a common affliction for men in the profession of delivering the ‘news’. Nevertheless, his presence was one very well suited for the delivery of information to half-invested viewers in the midst of getting on with their days.

Conversely, the ‘content’ that he delivered to said viewers concerned a subject that most—particularly those willing to sit and attempt to attend to a colored newscast— were likely to find alienating.

“And so, based on current financial trends, we can look forward to a steady economic upturn inside Jump City relative to our neighbours, and provided the national bank inflation rate is held within the range I mentioned earlier, that may just apply to the entire country. Of course, our currency has been bearish for the past—”

Suddenly, the suited male’s presence on the screen was replaced with that of another, more familiar suited male.

Unlike his predecessor, this one was much more willing to give his viewers what they wanted:

Easily digestible content.

“Aight, going to have to cut you off there, my nigga. That was our economics specialist Ray Matthews with an update on current financial trends and the best ways that you can stretch that dollar here in the city this summer.”

“Speaking of summer, our eyes on the street have reported no shortage of fun in the sun this weekend as well. What do you have for us down there, Gregg?”

Cued to the second male’s words, the broadcast feed shifted for a second time. This time, the interior of the newsroom was replaced with live footage captured on the streets of Jump City.

Following it, the sun-bathed grandeur of the inner city was presented in full. Though out of focus and peripheral, stretches of sidewalk littered with individuals in the midst of enjoying a cloudless day could be found if one could be bothered to devote attention to them.

Relative to what the shot captured in focus, these pockets of quaintness were almost certain to be ignored by the average viewer.

To the immediate left of the shot was a more casually-dressed newscaster equipped with a handheld microphone. To its right was Starfire—perhaps the second most prominent female Teen Titan—standing hand-in-hand with a young boy directing a starry-eyed stare straight into the lens pointed at them.

Despite her status as a role model for youthful justice and relatively upright behavior, Starfire’s current appearance, both in terms of clothing and proportion, was that of a modern young woman...to a point.

Of course, this was not to say that her alien features had somehow become less noticeable than before. If anything, the hearty orange complexion of her skin and the redness of her hair were accentuated as a consequence of the ‘differences’ visible in her frame.

Fundamentally, what separated the current Starfire from the ‘image’ she had established within the minds of the public was a replacement of her figure’s girlish litheness with a much more eye-catching distribution of fat and flesh. Though equally covered and compressed, the fatty bloat visible in both of her breasts suggested a surge in her cup size from a modest B to an unthinkably healthy F. Devoid of the rigidity and stagnancy to be expected of implants, the rounded, fabric-drawn melons instead offered a visible ‘squishiness’ of a far more tempting nature. In spite of this, they did not sag over her chest and midsection. Perky and self-sustained, they hung where they ought’ve, and allowed her bare midsection a (relatively) unobscured presentation. Better still, the undersized and stretchy nature of the clothing suckling to her upper body resulted in a great deal of orange, sweat-spritzed cleavage to be visible at the midsection of her chest.

These breasts were not, and yet somehow were the breasts of a ‘teen’—a rather oblivious and endearing one at that.

The same growth that her breasts had enjoyed could be seen in the lower half of her frame as well. From the ‘filled out’ span of her waist—a visible increase in muscle definition gilded on all sides by additional fat and curvature— bled a hip structure wide enough to put the elastic material that clothed this half of her frame to the test. Not so wide as to make her new stomach seem disproportionate, the obtuse ‘V’ instead formed the perfect joining point for her upper and lower body. With it as it was, the new swell visible in her thighs fit right in with the rest of her frame.

As if these features were not apparent enough in themselves, all of them were packaged within clothing that only made them seem more obscene. From her shoulders down to the middle of her abdominals, a near skin-tight, muted-white hoodie comprised of a material blended to project expensive and comfort kept ‘too much’ of her orange skin from exposure to the naked eye. Divided to either side of its miniature zipper were the words “BABY” and “FUCKER”, in a font too thick and black to be missed.

Below her exposed abdominal section, the white, name-branded rim of what was likely a pair of narrow-backed athletic panties could be seen pressed into her hips. Below them, a pair of jet black yoga pants curiously thin for the task set out for them left the inward slanting of her crotch just barely visible to the naked eye. Further downward, the pliant material enveloped her thighs as a second skin, and in doing so conveyed the torso width thickness they had acquired such that one could imagine the soothing warmth of sinking a hand into them by simply looking at them.

Oddly, Starfire’s appearance was not verbally scrutinized by the male reporter following the screen transition. What was commented on as she came into view was her presence and the reason for it.

Initially, of course.

“I’ve got that real shit for you here, Michael. Everybody, and I do mean everybody, is out enjoying this great weather downtown—superheroes included!”

“Nice to see you out and about enjoying yourself, Starfire. I see you’ve got a little friend with you today, too. Leave it to a Teen Titan to kill two birds with one stone, huh?”

Unaffected by the underlined meaning of Gregg’s introduction, Starfire replied just as a resident of Jump City might expect her to.

“I do not kill birds for sport, Reporter Gregg, and I certainly would not do so in the presence of my Husband.” she replied. “You are otherwise correct, however. Corentin and I are outside doing the ‘Couples-bonding’ recommended by the young women on the internet. I have been inseminated very recently, so we are celebrating also.”

No jovial retort sprang from Gregg’s lips behind her reprisal. What occurred instead was a silent ‘drop’ of sorts. Non-plussed and deadpan, Starfire stared at Gregg as though all was well, and Gregg slanted his gaze between Starfire and his camera man in search of aid that would not come.

Ill equipped, and frankly incapable of out stonewalling the woman opposite him, Gregg was the first to drag himself form out of the quagmire she had created.

“H-Hah. Haha! You Titans never disappoint with your jokes—marrying children is illegal here on earth, Starfire, haha...”

“Really, though, w-what brings you out with the little guy today?” in an attempt at pre-empting another potentially damning response, Gregg stepped inward to press his microphone down towards the enthralled child at Starfire’s side. “Your name’s Corentin, right kiddo? What kind of fun stuff have you done today?”

Being a half-year shy of infancy, an adorable “Fun!” from Corentin was all that Gregg received for his efforts. To make matters worse, Starfire was quick to take offensive to his understandable disbelief of her words.

“It is not very polite to imply that someone is a liar, Reporter Gregg. Corentin is not yet very good at conversations, but he would tell you the same things that I have if he could.”

“What, that you're married to a child?”

“Yes! Do you not see the hairs of public on my lips and the semen stains presented on my pants? Friend Raven informed me that these are the foremost symbols of a young woman’s bond with her Husband amongst humans—and I trust her!”

Set into a huff, Starfire matched her speech with gestures that removed all ambiguity from her meaning. After slapping her palms against her hips in a display of displeasure, she turned her face towards the camera trained on her and pointed to the stray wires of pubic hair glued to either side of her mouth, and the yet dried semen glossed to her exposed abdominal section.

By way of reflex, the camera operator responsible for capturing the scene angled his lens towards both of these areas in sequence. Made to watch the event from start to finish, Gregg’s frame slackened shortly after its completion.

There could be no sparing the station’s viewers now.

“Your expression still projects disbelief, Reporter Gregg. You leave me with no other choice…”

Reaching a hand out towards Gregg, an indignant Starfire dragged the microphone within his hand into her own, and drew it inward to a position just opposite her lips.

“I shall recount my insemination to all those watching at home. This will prove that I am being truthful, yes?”

Gregg did not confirm or deny this suggestion. Doing so wouldn’t make a difference; if Starfire wished to explain herself, there was nothing that he could say or do that would stop her.

This proved his first correct decision in dealing with the woman. In lieu of confirmation one way or another, Starfire turned to face the camera and began speaking as though she had intended to all along…

-  
SOME HOUSE, SOMEWHERE

Much like the majority of his 3-4 year old peers, Corentin devoted a great deal of his time during the day to the satisfaction of whims. Free from responsibilities or larger, more concrete ‘goals’ to devote himself to, these whims were what gave his life meaning (as much as ‘meaning’ could be applied to the life of a virtual infant).

A great many of these whims concerned activities that he had found to be ‘fun’. His knowledge of the world and the activities that one could perform in it was hardly impressive, but what time he had spent alive thus far had still managed to endow him with a handful of preferences.

One of these preferences—hardly the largest, yet nevertheless significant— was drawing. At any given point throughout any given day, Corentin sometimes desired to collect his drawing paper and pencil crayons, crayons, and whatever 15 dollar crayola bs kids draw with, and descend to his stomach to draw pictures.

Post his usual ‘lunchtime’ on an afternoon of no consequence (presuming afternoons for 4 year olds even have consequences you esoteric fuck), Corentin was struck with this whim, and happily devoted several hours to its satisfaction. Selecting the living room floor as the site for his work, he scribbled and sketched atop the paper that he had collected with all of the messy haphazardness that one could expect of a child. More often than not, the sheet of paper underneath his hands was discarded and replaced with a ‘canvas; untouched by his work. In time with this, the ‘mental image’ that he desired to produce was replaced by another generated by the idle ‘happy thoughts’ threaded into his brain.

Only after a solid hour of starting and stopping did the brown-haired youth produce a picture that he deemed worthwhile. Immediately afterwards, excitement consumed him. Popping to his feet with drawing in hand, he smoothly transitioned into a well-paced patter throughout his home that set his dense, front-parted mass of hair into a mild bounce.

On arrival opposite his destination, his enthusiasm only grew. Straight after nearly falling over at the mouth of the laundry room, he raised his right hand to present the face of his drawing to the individual inside it.

This individual was his destination—his ‘wife’ if the words of adults were as true as he believed them to be.

“Stawfwai, look! I drawed you!”

Heeding the sound of her husband’s voice by way of reflex, Starfire turned away from the folded squares of child-sized clothing ahead of her and immediately directed a smile towards the laundry room door. Awaiting her line of sight at the locale was not only her husband, but a piece of paper depicting an orange-skinned female figure. Above her head was an arrow that pointed at a grave, illegible misspelling of the name ‘Starfire’ (no backwards Es, though; he’s not retarded, come on), and to her side was a smaller, more fairly-skinned figure with brown hair.

Starfire’s eyes missed the finer details that identified her as the picture’s subject. Such was her perception of reality that she did not need to see them to recognize that her husband had drawn a stunning image of her.

Overtaken by a mixture of emotions, she discarded the tiny shirt pinched between her hands and lunged towards Corentin with both arms outspread. Dropping into a squat to scoop the boy off of his feet, she levelled his features with her own and immediately mashed the glossed exterior of her lips against his own.

Within seconds, the full length of her tongue began molesting the back of the near-infant’s throat. Spreading her lips wide enough to allow her saliva to drain into his mouth as she worked, she aggressively molested the flesh that surrounded her organ until she felt that her efforts had aptly conveyed a ‘wife’s intimacy’’. With this, she undid the affectionate smushing of her mouth against his own, and drew her skull backwards such that dense threads of the spittle she had poured into his mouth were elongated between their lips.

Unfatigued by the effort, speech from the voluptuous alien followed.

“Husband, the ART-WORK you have produced is most wonderful! On Tameran, such countenances are only produced by the most masterful of makers.” she applauded. “I am truly happy to have inspired you so! We should preserve this wondrous occasion with the ‘SELF-E’ and deliver it unto the ‘INSTAGRAM™’ for all to see!”

Without reason (or capacity) to do otherwise, Corentin took what he wished from Starfire’s response. Seeing that she was happy made him happy, and whilst happy, smiling, giggling, and swallowing the sweet spittle wadded at the back of his throat were amongst his favorite activities.

Starfire, however, had a very different means of managing her ‘happiness’ with the boy. Throughout her utterance and in the seconds that followed it, she paid close attention to the temperature of Corentin’s frame and the ‘overall ‘feel’ of his front’s impression against her breasts and upper abdominals. Well used to his body by this point, it came as no surprise to her when the warmth of his frame began to surge and the flatness of his crotch was progressively replaced by a heavy, serpent-like rigidity.

At the peak of these changes, Starfire began to walk. Cradling Corentin’s frame as a mother might a child, she departed from the laundry room and cut a short right from the door’s mouth into the bathroom adjacent to it. Inside, she proceeded as far inwards as its toilet before setting Corentin’s rear down atop it. Dropping down into a squat to keep her front (and the obscene swell of her breasts) poised towards him throughout, her hands’ position at his waist nevertheless remained consistent.

In short, Starfire did not wish to abandon contact with her husband. She was not yet finished poising his frame, but where she could help it, she preferred feeling the warmth of his skin to being without it.

“...Before that, though, I think that we should commemorate this occasion in another way, Husband.” Starfire began, pernicious lust now bleeding into her features.

“It has been sometime since friend Raven suggested that we marry one another. Please do not fret; these months have been as happy for me as those I spent with my companions after coming to this planet.”

“Nevertheless, it is quite...what is the Earth word for this?” pensive, Starfire rolled her eyes towards the left corners of their sockets and mined her mind for the words that she had learned. Her time on the planet allowed for her to find it rather quickly, but not without first exposing the miniature hearts perpetually pinned to the center of her irises.

“Ah, ‘IN-APPROPRIATE’. Yes, on Tameran, it is quite IN-APPROPRIATE for new brides to be without children months into a new marriage.” she explained, eyes slipping back into an endearing stare at the boy ahead of her. “I do feel your love for me, but as your wife and breeding object, I would like to do my utmost to rectify this.”

“So, let us begin!”

Endearingly naive as ever, some part of Starfire believed her Husband to be capable of adult comprehension. Per this belief, she smoothly drew the smiling boy from his seat atop the toilet to a standing position at its right. Hands still on his hips, she threaded fingers underneath the waistline of his fresh as fuck trackies you niggas have never seen such fresh fucking joggers on a three to four year old best believe Corentin makes grown men look like broke dusty faggots, and gently peeled the garment down across the lower half of his frame. Stopping only when she could safely drop the material at his ankles, she subsequently motioned to move herself.

This motion was cut short by none other than Starfire herself. In dragging Corentin’s pants down, the orange-skinned princess exposed the semi-erect monstrosity that had been growing at his crotch to the open air.

As much as she loved her Husband for who he was, she loved his reeking, pike-log endowment equally. Compared to the body it was attached to, the foot-long + (and still growing) breeding instrument reminded her of the masculine ‘excess’ that she had been born to cherish. Carrying a pale girth that exceeded her mind’s interpretation of a contracted female quadricep and a sweaty, likely semen-infused gloss reticent of the last time that they had coupled, even its surface qualities were beyond reproach. When considered alongside the pungent humidity of the musk that it exuded and the cock-length, thumb-thick veins that zig-zagged from its root to its tip in a several simple, imposing trails, she could find only one word within her mind to describe the flesh loaf:

Perfect.

A half minute of attending to its arousing qualities with lips spread in wistful awe satisfied Starfire’s visual need for the organ. Once elapsed, she briefly hopped upright to draw the yoga pants gloving her hips off of her lower body, then descended back to the floor. Laying herself out back first ahead of the toilet, she made several inefficient attempts at adjusting her position further before falling back on the use of her flight ability. With this, she raised her lower back up into contact with the toilet’s front lip, and squished her thighs in against one another just far enough to avail the uncovered and honey-drenched mound of cuntflesh drooling between her legs.

In her mind, the position that she had selected would accommodate her tiny lover whilst also allowing for her innards to be used more…’effectively’. Eager to be proven correct, she turned her gaze to stare upwards at her husband from the floor and plated yet more encouragement for him at the tip of her tongue.

Neither gesture accomplished anything with regard to her intent. When her eyes found Corentin’s face, it was no longer hovering above her left. Without being asked, the near-toddler had moved himself precisely where he needed to be. Tiny legs parted opposite both of her thighs, he needed only lean his torso forward and angle his crotch outwards to make the most of the position.

He did not need to be told how to do this, either. However inappropriate his frame and position, Corentin was not yet old enough to care about the consequences attached to his actions. In the past, Starfire’s presenting herself as she had typically resulted in pleasure for him. Thus, on yet another whim, he manipulated his frame to reproduce the actions that brought on this ‘pleasure’. Dropping his frame forward whilst hooking his crotch outwards, he unknowingly angled the reddened knob of glans flesh at his member’s tip directly opposite his wife’s leaking mound, then wrenched his lower body inwards to messily depress it, and several of the writhing cock inches behind it into a snug compression through her vaginal canal.

The stinging, cock-wringing bliss that enveloped the beginnings of his cock assured Corentin that the actions he had produced were ‘appropriate’ for the situation that Starfire had created. This alone could have sufficed as motivation for him to dig the tips of his toes into the ground and beginning driving additional inches of his erection into the slobbering embrace of her womanhood, yet straight in time with its coursing up his spine, additional motivation beset him in the form of an exhalation from his wife.

“Nnyuuughghh ♥♥. M-Most splendid, H-Husband~! Y-Your breeding i-instrument i-is invading your wife’s meat!” Starfire cooed. “Please do not stop! D-Drive yourself forward to your heart’s content

Feeling her lower lips split by the monstrous weight of her Husband’s shaft and her inner walls parted to accommodate its brutish dimensions sent an orgasmic groan barrelling out of Starfire’s throat before she could moderate into something more modest sounding. Throughout its release, her eyes rolled up towards the peaks of their sockets, and her teeth were grit against one another as though her frame had endured some sort of intolerable stimuli.

Contrary to the implications of her behavior, the release of this groan did not result in an abrupt degradation of her ability to think. Relatively accustomed to her husband’s endowment, Starfire curtailed its release to a fleeting few seconds before regaining, and injecting herself into proceedings as she believed a wife ought.

Yet again, the actions that she produced came a step behind further escalation from Corentin.

Unsurprisingly, the uniquely-textured congestion of Starfire’s cunt was not something that he could manage with grace. The fact that only a fraction of his cock had been stabbed into it was irrelevant; his mind was neither developed enough nor ‘adjusted’ enough to avoid a momentary addiction to the pleasure that her folds offered.

Consequently, the basal instincts installed in him by birth assumed complete control of his frame. Per their instruction, Corentin mushed his right cheek flat against the lower fraction of Starfire’s cleavage and devoted the entirety of his frame to plugging every inch of his engorged shaft into the warmth of her cunt. No sooner were Starfire’s inner walls allowed their syrup-basted suckle to the fattened veins coiled atop his length did he wrench the beginnings of his cock from her folds, then viciously skewer them (and several inches beneath them) back into the canal as though they had robbed him.

This done, the boy committed himself to a thrusting pattern better suited for a feral dog. Grinding the tips of his cutely sock-clad toes into the tiled floor beneath them, he repeatedly swung his crotch back and forth along an obtuse, crescent-moon shaped angle with hardly a second between ingress and retraction. With his upper body ‘supported’ against Starfire’s torso, each thrust that he produced was one backed by gravity and the entirety of his body mass. Contrastively, the break-neck retractions that served as their compliment saw the musculature of his thighs and crotch taxed well beyond what was appropriate for a child. Granted their blinding speed as a result of his inability to draw more than a few sex-slogged inches out from Starfire’s depths at a time, the ‘effectiveness’ of the backswings he produced was limited to a masturbatory grinding of his erection through stretches of already-subjugated cuntmeat.

Appearances aside, the bestial pattern gave his instincts precisely what they wanted. As the first minute of Corentin’s gravity-backed jackhammering elapsed, the final, blood-vessel gilded inches of his member (the root from which the rest of his cock and the steeled veins threaded through it spread) were depressed into Starfire’s cunt to the tune of a sodden *PLORP*. Perceived by a trained ear, this noise represented a strenuous depression of greasy glans flesh against a battered cervix, and the inundation of a sodden cunt with a cock well suited to tax it.

Motionless and ineffective throughout the entirety of her Husband’s efforts, Starfire was left with no other choice but to regard her impromptu hug as an example of an unflattering human idiom.

“Awhhh♥. It seems I am the ‘too late, too little’...” Starfire exhaled. “You have plugged everything inside all by yourself, Husband. You truly are most knowledgeable about how best to skewer the insides of a female.”

“Please continue and inseminate me as much as you please. I will do my utmost to support yoooOOUGHH♥♥♥.”

Yet again, Corentin’s instincts did not need more than a few seconds to acclimate to his member’s envelopment within Starfire’s cunt. Ignorant to the fact that Starfire herself was speaking, they unknowingly willed the youth’s frame into producing the very actions that she had suggested.

Without warning, Corentin flung his crotch outwards. Drawing both the syrup-glazed sac of softball-sized testicles and the ruggedly vascular root of his cock from out of his wife’s spread folds, he supported the extraction until his miniature frame could no longer manage it.

With this, his thrusting began anew—albeit this time with far more punishing consequences for the alien pedophile that he drove himself into....

-

WHY DIDN’T THOSE NEWCASTERS JUST WALK AWAY? SEEMS LIKE A PLOT HOLE IF YOU ASK ME, NIGGA

Corentin’s being without a concrete sense of shame or discomfort allowed for him to pleasure himself with Starfire’s body in a manner typically ‘restricted’ to the most brutish and genetically-gifted of adult males.

Upon beginning his thrusting pattern anew, he leveraged everything to do with the position that he had assumed to his advantage. Again did he favor a short skewer-flogging of his shaft through Starfire’s congealed womanhood, and again did he squeeze the nubile tips of his toes against the ground like a hound seconds away from knotting its bitch. This time, however, the punishing thrusting pattern enjoyed benefits wrought from the hilting of his shaft minutes prior.

In a word, his efforts became more graphic. Each blindingly short swing of his hips mashed the ambiguously hairless exterior of his crotch against the face of her cunt to the tune of a gluey *PLORP!*. Visible splatters of mixed precum and cunt-syrup burst into sluggish smears across the face of Starfire’s gaped mound, and were steadily plastered atop one another such that their combined volume sent several murky rivulets of the substance down across the face of Starfire’s stomach.

Appropriately, the depressions themselves were equally graphic. Whereas only a fraction of his cock was stamped back inside Starfire’s depths following one of these thrusts, every inch of depression mashed his strain-reddened member through a congested swamp of cuntflesh fattened for the purpose of matching his shaft’s excess. Once through the seemingly never-ending swamp, further pleasured followed. A vein-sandwiching grind of cockmeat through the starved bloat of her cervix ended with a firm thudding of his glans against the roof of her womb, and the pendulum motion of his thrusts squarely slammed the hairless bloat of his testicles against the lower reaches of Starfire’s cunt.

By themselves, the pleasure offered by these happenings (especially considering the speed at which Corentin subjected himself to them) completely waranted the agape, sex-warped expression currently plastered to his face. Presently, though, what the boy experienced was even more potent than usual. Alongside the sensations that he created for himself, the downward angle of his thrusts and gravity’s weighing down on his frame resulted in additional depth for the stabs he completed and a more strenuous spreading of Starfire’s squirming onahole flesh.

At a glance, Corentin’s complete addiction to the breakneck motions seemed liable to bring his breeding session with Starfire to an abrupt end whether he inseminated her or not.

Starfire did not intend to endure such failure.

“YES♥-YES♥-YES♥ HUSBAND! S-STIR UP Y-YOUR GREASY COCK INSIDE MY M-MOST PERVERSE INSIDES!!”

Relative to the stimulation that caused them, the strained squeals that she produced as her insides were rutted by Corentin’s cock were fairly mild. Since the redoubling of his efforts, all of the extraterrestrial sturdiness installed within her frame was put on full display. The phallic log’s rifling through her cunt and uterus repeatedly (and quite vigorously) bloated her midsection with a massive arc of distended abdominal flesh. Appearing and disappearing in time with each depression and retraction the boy produced, the size and span of the ghastly surges (an obese baseball bat’s tenting of dough or cloth) were readily apparent as something that the average female frame was not meant to withstand.

But then again, Starfire’s frame was far from ‘average’. Well into the feral peak of her Husband’s efforts, Starfire’s midsection had yet to acquire a single bruise—internally or externally. Similarly, whereas her cunt had quickly been reduced to a squirting, pressurized sinkhole for the mass of Corentin’s cock, her mind had not yet deteriorated in mimicry of it. Stimulation remained apparent across her face and in her voice, but at a severity that limited it to perpetual competition with another factor:

Bizarre, alien adoration.

“A-All of your disregard for my squirting h-hole is most splendid, Husband. There i-is no need for you to hold yourself back for the sake of my stimulation, however. I-I would much prefer if you u-used…”

Getting through a sentence without interruption by the sodden *PLAP-PLAP-PLAP* that constantly sounded out from her cunt was impressive in itself. Regrettably, this opened the door for Starfire to interrupt herself with the occasional throaty moan.

“Mnnngh~. Sex with one’s husband is so very nice ♥.” she exhaled, eyes fluttering into an iris-accentuating stare up at the ground. “O-Oh, but do not mind me. No matter the odd noises I make, please continue blending the meat of my cunt as the onahole. According to the Japanese Pornography, we are much more likely to make a child if you do~!”

However delirious and preoccupied, Starfire made certain to back her suggestions with sufficient motivation for her miniature husband to make use of them. Raising both of her arms, she engaged both in an embrace of his lower back that laid her forearms horizontally across its width. Larger and stronger than the boy in every aspect unrelated to sex, she needed only a fraction of her inane physical prowess and a hugging gesture to see the weight of his latest thrust intensified to new, nausea-inducing peak. Once applied, the size of the cock bulge induced at her midsection began to mimic the actual dimensions of Corentin’s length, and a distinctly juvenile squeak of bliss erupted from the back of the boy’s throat.

Much to her surprise (and tooth-chipping pleasure), the gesture did not slow Corentin’s thrusts any. After the brief instance wherein her strength prevented him from drawing his crotch backwards, Corentin’s thrusts resumed as they had left off seconds prior. Senseless and unsustainable, the boy seemed all too happy to work at the new, uterus-tenting depth that he had been squeezed down to. Hints of distress could be seen in his manic jack-hammering, but if the drool leaking from the corner of his mouth and the disjointed smile plastered to his face were any indication, this distress was precisely what he wished to feel.

Empathetic to a fault, Starfire’s perception of his experience was not far off from the reality of it. Right from the resumption of his thrusts, what little agency remained within Corentin’s mind was snuffed out by raw stimulation. And for good reason; without a moment’s notice, the puffy uterus flesh that his cock had so often bounced against became an organ-sized condom for the tip of his glans.  
Measured to match the inches gained in the distensions of her stomach, the pliant hood of uterus-meat teased his sex-worn glans with repeated reminders as to how much stimulation they had endured thus far. Combined with the sensations wrought as his shaft was floored into its embrace—this being his member’s nerve endings ploughing through a thickened swamp of needy canal lining— it could be fairly stated that Corentin had been ‘fed’ more than he could chew where his wife’s seeding was concerned.

But this wouldn’t stop him. More specifically, it couldn’t…

Corentin did not care how much squirting cuntmeat was folded around his cock at a given moment. He did not care that his testicles had become thoroughly drenched in his wife’s lubrication, nor did he seem to mind that the palm-plants he had smothered into her breasts had become an adorably ‘vicious’ pair of vicegrips. As he was presently, his body’s sole concern was its own satiation and the achievement of the biological consequent that came alongside it:

An orgasm.

“♥♥♥♥♥!” without words or expletives to summarize his experience, groans belabored by desperation began leaping from his throat one after another. Devoid of meaning in and of themselves, their quality was such that one familiar with the noises—perhaps the woman who so often dragged the exhalations from him, for example—might be tempted to understand them as something more than the pleasure-drunk groans of a child.

Their timing; their quality; their heady competition with the torrid *GLRSH(s)* fucked from an ideal set of female innards and the slimy *PLAP* of semen-swelled testicles against the crotch to which they were mounted—everything about them suggested that something far more significant was responsible for guiding them out of Corentin’s throat.

Starfire did not need to pose the questions of ‘what’ or ‘when’ to herself. After recognizing her Husband’s exhalations for what they were, further thought became unnecessary.

Only one thing ever followed his adorable grunting. It warranted the depression of her right incisor into the right corner of her mouth, a widening of her legs spread to better present her cratered cunt to the sledgehammer-depressions he produced, and where her uterus was concerned, a sex-triggered regurgitation of its most fertile ovum through her female tubing and into her womb.

Insufficient preparation, but preparation on all the same.

“K-KYUMMIN !”

When this slurred groan burst from Corentin’s throat, Starfire believed that she was ready. All the same, the hilt-depth thrust that he produced and the monstrous squirming of the obscene vein-system mounted to his member injected her brain with so much narcotic stimulation that the strain placed on the organ flushed a healthy expulsion of blood out of her right nostril.

In spite of this, she remained completely conscious. When the clotted jelly-sludge that served as Corentin’s reproductive fluid erupted out against the distended peak of her uterus, a second debilitating burst of euphoria exploded within the core of her being.

This one was even more appropriate than the last. ‘Teased’ by the pressurized ascent of a chunked glue through Corentin’s urethra and the healthy squirming of his seed such they the tadpoles could be felt (or imagined, whatever nigga) through the underside of his cock, a moment’s notice saw a putrid and grossly voluminous ‘thread’ of cock juice caked, then firmly smothered atop her uterus’ inner lining. Only mildly discolored for its thickness and excess, the steaming slime could be recognized as a largely-melted cheese thoroughly infused with a skin-staining adhesive or plaster. Forced onto the comparatively ‘’insufficient’ surface area of Starfire’s uterus, the substance’s overlapping atop itself resulted in the simulation of a sludgy, papier-mâché-like quality following delivery.

Chunked and chewable, the passage of time saw these nauseating qualities exacerbated, and reproduced throughout the entirety of Starfire’s womb. ‘Described’ to the world at large by way of repeated, saturated *GLORPS* timed to the release of each rope of nut expelled from Corentin’s member, the conditions one might imagine for the inside of Starfire’s babymaker were exacerbated beyond the scope of a simple creampie. In less than a minute, the wadded ropes upchucked by Corentin’s member exceeded the organ’s basal capacity for semen. Seconds past this, they demanded that it expand, and continue gulping down the virile muck like water. Later, after its semen-packed bloat forced Starfire’s midsection through the projection of several lumpy, garbage-bag-like trimesters of pregnancy, the requirements set by the overfed eruptions exceeded even Starfire’s propensity for compliance.

“Oooough♥♥. Y-You’re as healthy as e-ever, aren’t you Husband?” Starfire suggested nasally. “T-The, um…t-the ‘baby juice’ you’re pouring i-inside my womb is most vigorous. So very squirmy and active ♥. If I am not mistaken, t-this is the most you’ve released into me at once as well!”

On producing this utterance, the ‘natural’ expression on her face (natural in this case meaning becomingly sweaty and bloody where her upper lip was concerned) became bashfully love-struck. Seemingly overcome by an uncomfortable amount of adoration, she slanted her gaze up at the boy panting against her breasts and addressed him as though she had been pampered by him more so than she deserved.

“…I-I am very spoiled by you Husband. My desire for a child is what created this opportunity, but feeling you squeeze out a volume of ‘cock’s juice’ large enough to fatten my stomach and submerge my ovaries in its sludge makes me feel as the spoiled princess who must always have her way to be happy.” She continued, sheepishly. “I-It does makes me very happy, but I do hope that you have not exhausted yourself on my account. A wife who is not pleasant to breed is no wife at all…”

Modest and selfless to a fault, Starfire was more concerned with how she had presented herself than she was with the pudgy bloat of her ballooned uterus and the cock still throbbing within her core combined. Without the wherewithal to recall that the boy she was speaking to was barely capable of producing a handful of words at a time, she all too readily accepted his wordlessness as proof of her greed.

“Oh, you need not scold me so. From this point onward, I-I shall try to be less…”

“L-Less…

“Sphohiiillled ♥.”

The cells squirming within Starfire’s uterus did not believe her utterance for an instant. Rather than let her complete her pledge with a semblance of dignity, the entire back half of her utterance was slurred and sexualized by the simultaneously depression of a portly pair of sperm cells into the eggs flushed into her uterus.

Yes—not egg, but egg(s). In response to the inhuman volume of sperm cells made to quiver and writhe amongst one another within her baby-maker, the alien genetics that had sculpted the organ decided that the release of a second ovum was necessary to make the most of her suitor’s orgasm. To this end, a second healthy cell was harmlessly fed through her female tubing whilst the sensations induced by its movement were dulled by the perpetual motion of the tadpoles within Corentin’s clotted nut.

The piercing of this second ovum with a sperm cell in time with its predecessor was a simple coincidence. Or perhaps not—but really, who gives a fuck nigga, come on.

Not long after this did it became apparent that both of the porous cells were far too sturdy to succumb to a single cell each. No less attractive to the hoard of squishy swimmers that surrounded them, several other tadpoles leapt into the crater creases made by their predecessors and worked in unison to turn the interior of both reproductive bulbs into a pair of useless, sperm-riddled husks.

Try as they might, the half-dozen or so cells (per ovum) that approached the task failed to make even the slightest of inroads towards completing it. However outnumbered, the difference between human and Tameranian biology remained distinct. When taxed, Starfire’s eggs did not falter, and instead happily consumed their assailants as a needlessly long body of descriptive text consumes attention that could otherwise be directed towards the digestion of a mediocre narrative.

It was this sensation—the sensation of two of her eggs becoming portly jizz containers that rivalled her stomach (relatively speaking)—that rolled Starfire’s eyes into the peaks of their sockets and warped the end of her sentence into a pleasure starved coo.

While potent, her debilitation did not consume her for long. Much like a bubbly elastic band, her thoughts returned to her, and thereafter recognized cause for celebration.

She had finally been inseminated—not once, but twice in the same sitting.

“Husband, what a joyous occasion~! You have finally implanted life into my eggs! On earth, this is called ‘Breeding the Retarded Sow’ yes?” again, Starfire posed this question solely for the purpose of reaffirming what she already knew to be the truth. “We must celebrate! Once you are finished emptying yourself within me, we shall go out and procure Ice-cream together! This will be a fitting way for us to celebrate out togetherness as well ♥.”

Despite having spent the past few minutes panting in the aftermath of his body’s mindless breeding of Starfire’s cunt, Corentin was motivated to respond to Starfire’s latest utterance in particular. He didn’t understand it entirely, but, as any child would, he like the sound of it.

“Icecweam?” started Corentin, head rolling into a chin-to-cleavage compression against Starfire’s clothed breasts.

“Yes, ice-cream! As much as you desire!”

This was the only question that the boy needed answered. Donning an excited smile, all of his earlier fatigue disappeared. In sequence, he pushed his chest off Starfire’s breasts and reeled his cunt-sunk member backwards at the behest of innumerable muddy, pressurized backdrafts of semen through her slogged cunt…

All of this solely for the purpose of driving every sex-mired inch straight back down to a crotch-drenching hilt into her guts and nastily displacing a fraction of his orgasm’s contents from her ballooned womb.

“Icecweam’s tasty!”

That it is, my nigga.

That it is.  
-  
REGULARLY SCHEDULED PROGRAMMING

“And that is the story of how I was inseminated several hours prior! I thank all citizens of Jump City who were so kind as to sit and listen!”

“With that, I believe the time for frowning and story-telling is over .Please, rejoice! If not for myself and my Husband, then in commemoration of this beautiful day. It is my hope that all of you watching on the other side of this magical box will be able to enjoy it to the fullest ♥.”

Finally finished with her graphic, minutes long explanation of how life had been implanted into her stomach, Starfire bowed cordially, and calmly extended the microphone she had wrested from from Gregg back towards him.

Reaching out to meet her offering as though his life depended on it, Gregg briskly re-equipped himself with the device and swung his torso such that his face and chest would consume the shot captured by his hapless assistant.

Why he had bothered to force himself back into the spotlight so quickly was unclear. Like his cameraman, the contents of Starfire’s story had offered an appeal both enthralling and degenerate enough to consume his attention. Now free from it, the reality of his situation—the reality of having unwittingly broadcasted a graphic description of pedophilia—took up the task of tying his tongue and saw thoughts as to his ruined career repeatedly funnelled to the forefront of his mind.

He did find his voice eventually, however...albeit not in the manner that his earlier behavior might’ve alluded to.

However charismatic or seasoned in their trade, all men have a breaking point. His just so happened to revolve around disgusting descriptions of illegal sex.

“Thanks for that...uh…”

“Fuck.”

“Well, thanks for that, Starfire.” he replied, unoccupied hand idly dragging smears of sweat from one side of his forehead to the other. “I know you just had your big finale there, but is there anything you’d like to say to the people at home before we take things back to the studio? Something about the Tit—”

“Oh fuck no, nigga, it’s my turn to ask questions, bitch.”

From seemingly out of nowhere, Dalauan Williams, the sole remaining silent party among the group injected himself into proceedings in a manner unlikely to be ignored.

“Dalauan!! What’re you doing!!” hissed Gregg.

“Fuck you, nigga. Anyway, Starfire—that story about you getting fucked was pretty aight, but before that, you mentioned some shit ‘bout those pubes on your lips.” Dalauan inquired, calmly. “Can you tell us how those got there real quick? Jus’ a couple seconds should be aight.”

No less detached from the circumstance that she had created than she had been prior to her speech, Dalauan’s question saw another smile drawn across Starfire’s lips. Behind its presentation, she turned towards Corentin, and dropped down into a wide, thigh-parted squat ahead of him. Taking hold of his hips with both hands once in position, she again created an irresistibly suggestive sight for broadcast’s the growing audience.

“Certainly, Cameraman Dalaun! In fact, I shall demonstrate to you what happened here and now."

"You'll assist me, won't you, husband?"

Perpetually taken with his wife's voice and behavior, Corentin took the adjustment of his body in stride, and to the surprise of basically no one, consented.

“Okay!”

Taking his youthful chirp to mean something far more heartfelt, Starfire threaded fingers from both of her hands underneath his shorts and deftly peeled his mammoth length out from underneath it. First threading out the gleaming, sex-reddened tip before moving down to the jarring, vein-layered bloat of its root, her hands did not stop until its entirety was dragged out into an imposing, musk-baked flop ahead of his pants.

As promised, she opted to ‘show’ rather than tell. With eyes bent towards the camera lens now conveniently situated to the left of her skull, she took hold of Corentin’s cocktip with both hands, parted her lips, and jammed her skull inwards as though the ‘meat’ set ahead of her mouth was not a sweaty, semen-plastered cocktip granted a striated appearance by excess sex.

Subsequently, her husband made good on his own promise. Having fucked his cock to a state of ‘emptiness’ an hour prior, the warm plush of Starfire’s lips as ground across the beginnings of his member alongside the slimy wetness of her mouth’s interior became a far more stimulating experience than usual. Devoid of any sort of desire to reject this pleasure, he responded to it by thrusting his hands into an innocuous plant atop Starfire’s skull and ramming his crotch inwards to see additional inches of his hole-ruining member messily squeezed into his wife’s ‘facecunt’.

Like the throbbing sleeve between her legs, he made certain to use the twitching hole to the fullest. Behind the first inward punch of his cock, he took to flinging his hips inwards and outwards on a plane directly in line with where Starfire had set her mouth. Between the size of his member and the force that he put behind these thrusts, the violent motions regularly (and effectively) sunk additional inches of his mast between Starfire’s lips.

Throughout, Starfire’s face projected complete comfort. Gifted with a non-conventional gag reflex, the neck-reddening compression of cockmeat between her lips was no different to her than perpetually swallowing some innocuous bolus of food. Even when the bloating of her esophagus drew expulsions of dense mucus from her lips and nostrils, she continued to stare into the camera at her side as if nothing had changed.

Her sole ‘emote’ for the event came when Corentin’s ambiguously hairless and slop-drenched crotch was mushed up against her face. With this, she smiled with her eyes, and allowed the tears welled within them by reflex to stream down onto the peaks of her cheeks.

Impressively, this smile remained visible well after Corentin began driving his esophagus-plugged member in and out of her face. What surrounded it was made a sweaty, slop-caked mess of its former self with time, but what it conveyed went unchanged:

She loved her position and the boy in control of it.

Her abnormal affection for Corentin aside, a ‘reasonable’ explanation for this love could be inferred from Corentin’s thrusting pattern.

Right from the beginning of the boy’s metronome did it become apparent that he would not be able to manage masturbating with her esophagus for long. Whether swung inward or driven outwards, hardly a few inches of his shaft escaped the quivering contractions of her facecunt per thrust.

But this was to be expected—he did not have any say in the matter.

Each time he flicked his crotch inward, the vascular bulk carried by his shaft saw copious amounts of throatslop and mucus messily ejected onto his cock. These expulsions hardly affected the rate at which he drove himself inward, but the warm goo’s compilation atop his nubile crotch represented an unnecessary ‘extra helping’ of stimulation.

Invisible to those that observed his thrusts was the steamrolling of his erection’s surface by the alien composition of Starfire’s G.T track. Dense, licorice red, and riddled with innumerable, penny-width bulbs of flesh, the slightest shift of his erection’s position down her throat saw the oozing tract’s surface area ground across his member as backed by debilitating amounts of pressure. Subjected to their ideal match, even the sturdy tree-roots strewn out along its length were made to shudder and shift to the whims of her esophagus lining.

It was as a direct result of the sleeve’s cock-milking composition that his thrusts were kept short in the first place. Dogged by its bulbous, multi-faceted embrace, simply extracting his cock from its grasp became an extremely trying task for Corentin. And, just as his thrusts incited constriction from it, so too did his attempts at retraction see its flesh squeezed down onto his cock’s worn exterior.

Relative to the stinging weight mashed into sex-rawed endowment, his repeatedly drawing himself inwards and outwards by a few inches was not very impressive.

Naturally, none privy to his efforts actually viewed them this way. What the network’s viewers took away from the famished brutality of his thrusts was akin to the dissonance evoked by a child attempting to do the work of an adult.

To them, he never had a chance at surviving Starfire’s throat to begin with. Thusly, it came as no surprise to any of them when, not 5 minutes into his greasy facefucking, a definitive stamp of his crotch brought the event to an end.

“♥♥♥♥”

As euphoria erupted from the boy’s throat, erratically chained *GLORP* noises consumed the airspace nearest Starfire’s skull. Produced one after another in varying lengths and severities, those who perceived the noises were granted just enough exposure to their quality to liken them to what a jellied sludge might sound like whilst upchucked into a compact basin. Seconds later, these noises were joined by succinct and far more frequent *PLRUPS* recognizable as the sound produced as one chugged some repulsively dense fluid.

For a time, these noises competed with one another in harmony. Eventually, though, their shared ‘cause’ overcame Starfire’s ability to manage it. Slowly but surely, her incessant gulping became ineffective. For every *GLORP* that sounded out of her neck, the concave smoothness of her cheeks was disrupted by the encapsulation of a lumpy semi-solid. Made to mimic a pair of sludge-packed balloons more closely with each second that passed, their growth soon exceeded her mouth’s ability to accommodate them.

With nowhere else to go, the fluid responsible for their engorgement sought release. Following a miniature eternity of hastily chugging down the same nutrient-riddled reproductive vomit that had inseminated her, semen mirroring a jellied yogurt erupted from the corners of her lips and her crotch-compressed nostrils in unison

Upon exposure to the open air, the fact that Starfire had managed to push it down her throat (much less maintain it within her stomach) became that much more impressive. Distinctly fluid, yet unwilling to run as such, Corentin’s battered nut was every bit as bestial as the shaft that had produced it. The sight of it smeared in layered patches on both sides of Starfire’s face—patches continually fed volume as a result of her unwillingness to drag her lips off the base of his crotch—was primed to evoke mental images of the substance clinging to the lower reaches of her esophagus and congealing at the base of her stomach. Separately, its progressive irritation of Starfire’s eyes (both left fully exposed before the volume of her regurgitation drew her eyelids half-way across them) left nothing to the imagination as to how ripe and heated it was.

In spite of these things, Starfire did not appear discontent with her situation. Rather than continue trying to gulp Corentin’s semen strands through her increasingly clogged esophagus, she allowed her face to be submerged under a layered blanket of regurgitated semen, and subsequently began drawing her lips backwards along his member. Well aware of the fact that cum was still surging from the tip of his shaft, she nevertheless dislodged him from her depths and popped his swollen glans out of her mouth entirely.

Then, whilst strands of nut were lazily caked to her features one after another, she spoke.

“Like that! If I am not mistaken, this is how the hairs of pubic ended up on my face. It was quite a bit messier last time, though!” she affirmed, voice congested. “I do not think you’ll be able to see them now, unfortunately…”

For the second time in as many admonishments, Starfire’s apology fell on deaf ears. Mesmerized by her display, Dalaun failed to perceive the contents of her utterance and instead focused

“Aight, cool. Uh…”

“Back to you in the studio, Michael.”


	2. Daycare, or Your Alien Wife's Anal Addiction; Pick One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another year passes for Starfire and Corentin. Little changes in their wildly inappropriate marriage--really its depravity escalates. When I say escalate, I mean that Starfire loses the ability to manage most days without breaking into the daycare centre that looks after Corentin most days and tempting him into piping her asshole into a mess and semen or flesh so loudly that basically everyone in the building can hear it.
> 
> No one can really say shit, though.

SOME DAYCARE CENTRE—SOME DAYCARE CLASSROOM

Corentin could feel his pocket buzzing. For three consecutive seconds, the smartphone snugly pressed into his right pants pockets had vibrated in response to messages sent to it. Uniquely patterned, the ‘sender’ of these messages was conveyed to him by way of feel, as was the contents of each message sent.

Following these seconds, he desired nothing more than to reach into his pocket and look at what he had received. Seated amongst his classmates in silent adherence to numerous ‘caregivers’ tasked with looking after them in their parents’ stead, doing so was a sure-fire means of being scolded for not paying attention.

So he waited. Listening attentively to the oldest and loudest of these women standing at the front of the classroom, he fought his primary instinct without visible signs of distress for minutes on end.

Eventually, his endurance was rewarded.

“Alright, kids! The next 30 minutes is game time, okay? Everyone can take out their phones or tablets and play whatever they’d like! Sharing with friends is allowed as well, so I don’t want to see anyone doing nothing!” after several seconds of droning that he could neither comprehend nor invest himself in, an exclamation that he understood left the aged woman’s lips.

“If you don’t have anything to play with, please come to the front of the room. We have plenty of spare tablets up here as well!”

These sentences were no different than the discharge of a starting pistol. On completion, the interior of the classroom erupted into a haphazard mess of noise and movement. Around Corentin, children that he had learned to regard as friends pattered over to their cubbies or reached into their pockets to retrieve their smart devices. Afterwards, some paired up whilst others noisily seated themselves where one of the younger caretaker’s stationed around the classroom could see them.

Corentin did not follow suit. On this signal, he set out on a stride straight up to the daycare assistant he was most familiar with. Smiley and loose, he arrived ahead of her projecting an irresistible sunniness; a natural state for him, but an effective one nonetheless.

Before he could be asked about the reason for his presence, he presented one.

“Ms! Ms! Can I go to the washroom?” he began, warmly. “I had to wait really long cause’a Ms. Myly talkin’ so much.”

Where Corentin was concerned, familiarity rarely bred contempt. Amongst those aware of his circumstance, it instead incited concern and suspicion. More so the former than the latter, but enough of both to ensure that the ‘lens’ through which he was viewed differed significantly from those trained on other children his age.

Nevertheless, Ms. Julie—the assistant most familiar with the boy and invested in his well-being— met his request as naturally as she could.

“...Yes, Corentin. That’s fine.” she replied, smiling. “Don’t take too long though, alright? It’s important that you have fun with your friends during periods like this, so I don’t want to see you by yourself too much, understand?”

Indifferent to the conditions of his release, Corentin nodded in agreement, and giggled so as to ensure the older woman that all was well.

“‘Kay! Thank you, Ms!” he chirped.

If only slightly, Corentin turned on his heels too eagerly for Julie’s liking. Stopped by a hand on his shoulder less than a step into his retreat, he soon found her frame knelt level at his front.

“Actually, before you go, I want you to tell me how you’re feeling.” Julie began. “Your wi— I-I mean, your guardian isn’t making you feel funny, is she?”

Well used to this question, Corentin shook his head and ensured that his facial expression did not shift as he did so.

“Mhm, I’m okay! Starfi’s really nice!”

“B-But she’s not too nice, r-right? As in, you two haven’t—”

“I’m sorry, Ms, I really gotta go! I’ll try to answer your stuff later, ‘kay?”

Corentin departed without another word. Weaving through the colorful classroom without looking back, he remained a sunny and wistful child right up until he slipped from its confines.

Outside of it, he became only slightly less sunny. Digging his right hand into his pocket, he pulled his smartphone into the embrace of both of his hands and smoothly unlocked it.

The first ‘destination’ his thumbs sought were his text messages. Two taps of his thumbs—one on a mail icon and another on the most recently updated text chain listed within it—presented him with the source of the buzzes he had felt minutes prior.

Across the face of his smartphone was Starfire—not the woman herself, but a pair of extremely vivid photographs of her frame in sequence with one another. At the midsection of these photos, text added through the app’s inborn image editing tools described their contents and greeted the youth to which they were addressed simultaneously.

The first depicted Starfire within what appeared to be one of the facility’s unused activity rooms. Its angle was such that the door to the room (and the number marking it) were visible behind Starfire whilst the contents of the room itself were partly obscured by her frame.

Neither of these things were the image’s focal point, of course. Starfire, dressed in an extremely ‘civilian’ combination of polar grey tube-top cut to envelope a decent fraction of her bust and the beginnings of her midsection alongside a matching pair of loosely-fitted shorts designed to be ‘filled out’ with the width and curvature of her hips and thighs, fulfilled this role all on her own. 

Gratuitous as her female assets were, the outfit she had chosen to squeeze herself into still qualified as clothing. Not including the modest percentage of breast flesh that it encapsulated, her arms, shoulders, and the entirety of her chest and neck leading down into her cleavage were exposed by the make of her top. Similarly, the succulent swell and span of her thighs past an additional inch or so of coverage offered by the garment (what made her shorts ‘shorts’ as opposed to short-shorts) could be seen in all of their soft-orange glory.

Summatively, one could not say that Starfire had dressed herself too provocatively to appear in public. Neither garment squeezed down on the fat installed into figure with enough force to make it appear more obscene. As well, her nipples and crotch line were completely obscured to the naked eye. Shortly, it was not her clothing that applied perversion to her frame, but her frame that applied perversion to her clothing.

Well used to Starfire in all of her forms, Corentin did not pay much attention to her appearance past his initial intake of it. Instead, he focused his attention on the words written out on the image’s center.

“Hello, Honored Husband! I hope you are learning well today!”

The second picture in the message chain offered a more cursory focus on Starfire’s frame. No longer centered relative to the shot’s angle, Starfire’s position now appeared set off to the left of the one that she had maintained in the original shot. 

With this, Corentin became certain that she was within one of the innumerable rooms ‘playrooms’ that he had spent time within months prior. Prompted by the familiarity of its interior, his feet began carrying him in its general direction in spite of his eyes’ preoccupation with the text overlaid atop the photo’s middle.

“Surely you recognize the room that I am in? If you can, please come here as soon as possible! I will be very, very thankful if you do ♥.”

Much too young to think on the innumerable ‘questions’ surrounding Starfire’s invitation, Corentin’s digestion of this message saw his consciousness thrown into the task of getting his body into his old classroom as quickly as possible.

He did not need to know why he was going, nor was he especially concerned about the fact that Starfire had infiltrated the facility without anyone noticing.

Starfire had asked something of him; anything less than a response in kind could be considered ‘marital neglect’.

Whatever the fuck that means. My nigga is a 4-5 year old child. His understanding of this concept is equivalent to: “I should look both ways before crossing the street so I don’t die”. Homeboy will still adhere to it, but he barely even knows why he’s doing it. Real shit.

A minute or so of driven patterning returned Corentin to the site of many of his fondest educational memories. Awaiting him there was a door cracked ajar in anticipation of his arrival, and according to his nose, a scent too familiar to be anything other than what he presumed it to be.

Moments later, he found himself slipping through the crack made for him into its interior. However, before the entirety of the sunlit space could consume his line of sight, something else did.

This something was Starfire. Dressed in only half of the outfit she had worn in the photos sent to his phone, her standing frame was decidedly without any coverage from the end of her cleavage downward.

Corentin did not have long to dwell on her partial nakedness. Upon consuming his line of sight, Starfire dropped down to her knees to set her front directly opposite his own. As if predicting some sort of exclamation from him in response, she promptly stabbed her skull inwards and mashed her lips against his own. What ensued after the fact was yet another one of her famously ‘intimate’ kisses. Without regard for the spillage of saliva out of her mouth and onto Corentin’s face, she pressed the abnormal length of her tongue in her husband’s mouth up to the back of his throat, then took to swirling and grinding its meat against his nubile depths as she pleased.

Unaffected by the seconds-long effort, she broke this kiss nearly as quickly as she had initiated it. 

“I am so very happy to see you, Corentin!” she whispered, genuine happiness dominating her tone. “I was going about my day as usual, but I began to feel somewhat…disturbed.”

Every bit his amicable self in the face of Starfire’s assault, Corentin ignored the saliva on his face in favor of concentration on Starfire’s whispers. 

“I’m happy t’see you too, Starfi!” he replied, voice levelled to a similarly thin whispered. “What’s ‘disturbed’? Are you feeling sick?”

To this, Starfire shook her head in disconfirmation and produced a wry smile.

“No, it is not an illness. I am not certain what it was myself, but I very suddenly began to desire sexual contact with you more than I desired to do any of my work around the city. My internal organs began to feel very irritated and my body has since become much hotter as well...”

Cognizant of the fact that this information was likely to go right over her husband’s head, Starfire was quick to pivot from describing her problem to detailing its solution.

“You do not have to worry about me, though. I came to visit you because you are the solution to my condition!”

“I am?” Corentin whispered, excitedly.

“Yes! I need only for you to fuck me like the ‘stupid fucking bitch’ for a time and I am certain I will return to normal ♥.”

Behind this, Starfire decided to forgo further explanation. First nodding her head in absolute certainty, she raised her left hand’s index finger up to a vertical ‘cross’ along her lips to remind her husband of the need for quiet whilst she prepared. Then, behind Corentin’s assent to this ‘need’, she released her embrace of his back and rose to her feet.

She did not remain upright for very long, however. Three footsteps back from her initial position, she again dropped herself down to the ground. Dropping the ample fat of her rear into contact with the classroom floor, she subsequently leaned backwards to lower her back into contact with the floor as well. 

Set, she spread her legs away from one another. Exposing the perspiring mound of plump cuntflesh at her crotch, she seamlessly drew the limbs up to parity with her torso such that their placement created an acute ‘V’ shape (thighs angled away from both sides of her torso, calves hanging down near contact with the undersides of her thighs). Next, as though the act was no more difficult than outstretching her arms, she reached down with both of her arms to ‘lock’ her calves and ankles between her bicep and forearm.

This done, she made the ‘V’ shape of her crotch even more acute. One arm at a time, she pulled the nooses she had created back behind her head. Dragging her legs upwards and inwards in the process, she did not stop the ascent of either limb until the heels of her shoe-clad feet were pressed into contact with the left and right sides of the skull. Feet forming a tenuous ‘/\’ shape behind her skull, her latest display of flexibility left both her cunt and asshole gratuitously ‘open’ to the boy ahead of her, and accentuated their lust-soaked juiciness with accessibility.

Yet to break a sweat, Starfire manipulated her body into this position within seconds of touching the ground. Afterwards, she turned her gaze up towards the child standing ahead of her and produced a whisper with the same wistful affection she had used to greet him minutes prior.

“This will make it much easier for you to satisfy me, husband.” she began, a very matter-of-fact confidence gilding her tone. “I do not wish to obstruct your education more than I must, so let us make the best use of it that we can ♥.”

Were her circumstance (and lust) somewhat different, an utterance such as this from Starfire was almost guaranteed to be followed by silence. The time and affection she had invested into having sex with her husband granted her the luxury of watching and waiting for Corentin to pick one of her holes and violate it.

Presently, she had no such luxury. As Corentin began his usual smiley approach towards her, the need throbbing within the holes she had presented demanded that she guarantee herself something more immediate.

To this end… 

“My asshole…” whispering just loud enough to draw Corentin’s attention away from away from peeling off his uniform slacks, she continued speaking the moment she affirmed eye-contact with the boy. “It would be most wonderful if you turned the meat of my anus into the ‘greasy shithole’ without concern for my comfort ♥.”

“If you do that, I am certain that I will cum hard enough to ensure that I do not become a nuisance for your studies…today, at least.”

At 4-5 years old, Corentin’s comprehension of Starfire’s suggestion was much better than it had been a year prior. The nature of their relationship and the amount of time he had spent alongside her had made her intent unambiguous from the moment she took to the floor. Now, however, he had specifics—specifics that he not only understood, but those capable of ‘positively’ influencing his behavior.

Already in the midst of discarding his uniform’s slacks, Corentin nodded in excited agreement toward Starfire’s suggestion. Following this, his lips parted in what appeared to be the beginnings of an exclamation.

Though planned, the outburst never made it past his lips. Whereas the 3-4 year old Corentin might’ve spewed it without thinking, the 4-5 year old version was capable of recalling the need for the two of them to be quiet.

With this in mind, Corentin substituted words for action. Directly ahead of Starfire’s presented frame, he plunged into a tip-toe supported squat of his own and gripped the root of his monstrous erection as best as the juvenile span of his palm could manage. Pushing the greasy loaf of cockmeat downwards, he aligned his reddened glans with the glistening, lust-honeyed bloat of Starfire’s sphincter. Then came an outstretching of his hands into a flat press against Starfire’s exposed midsection, and a final, adorable tightening of his facial features into his best attempt at focus.

Here, he swung his crotch outwards, then inwards with a poise and balance as disturbing as it was impressive. Skewering several inches of his shaft into a moist, orifice-spreading submersion into his wife’s puffy shithole, the focus that he plastered to his features was subsequently replaced with a cute, closed-eyed strain reminiscent of a child in the midst of getting a shot.

Undeterred nonetheless, a downward flop of his upper body followed. Pushing his hands upward as he fell, he embraced a paltry amount of Starfire’s clothed breast meat between his arms in a form of affirming hug, and in the process sunk even more of the bestial organ into the sweltering embrace of her large intestines.

Together, these actions represented only half of the boy’s aim. Now close enough to Starfire to speak quietly and still be heard, he began projecting his voice over the swell of her breasts whilst making sure that his face was still visible to her.

“’s okay! I like you more than learnin’ stuff, Starfi.” he whispered. “I’ll help you cum a bunch like the gross pervert girl you are! That’s what husbands ‘r aspota do, right?”

Then and there, Starfire found herself speechless. Laying eyes on Corentin’s erection and watching as the calve-thick organ was angled perfectly for a gutting impression into her asshole had rendered her similarly tongue-tied, but the nuance to this instance was different.

Whilst slightly younger, Corentin’s speech capacity had forced her to infer utterances from him based on the actions that he took. Only recently had he begun producing them on his own, and only recently had she invested herself into acclimating to them.

Tragically, his latest caught her completely off-guard. 

The request that she placed resulted in immediate action from Corentin. As soon as her words hit his years, the depth of the boy’s addled squat grew deeper, and a sudden outward wrench of his hips messily peeled the inches he had depressed into her out to his glans. This done, another reversal saw an even larger fraction of his manhood noisily punched back into her intestines.

On impact, he adjusted his thrusting position altogether. First stepping forward with his left foot to set its sole beside Starfire’s upturned thigh, he subsequently dropped his right back behind him in a full-stretch reminiscent of a sprinter’s starting position. In doing so, he leveraged the contact he had established with Starfire’s chest to produce a deeper depression of his cock (left foot), and stabilized his lower body well enough to withstand whatever manner of thrust he delved into afterwards (right foot).

Naturally, Corentin was not conscious of either of these accomplishments. His sole aim in producing them was acquiring more pleasure from the fussily-tight abyss of asshole flesh that surrounded his member. On accomplishing this, he immediately set his hips into a reflexive, balls-deep goring of his cock in and out of Starfire’s insides as if attempting to excavate something from them by way of plumping. 

Truth be told, ‘plumping’ aptly described both the shape and pace of these thrusts. For as much as his body enjoyed the sensation of a crotch-depth impression of his cock into quivering intestine flesh, Corentin’s frame had learned that a ‘mating press’ was not always the ideal means of brutalizing Starfire’s asshole. Peeling approximately half of his cock from her depths—a length significant enough to impose feelings of vacation on her insides without robbing his erection of pleasure—then hooking these inches back through to a hilt over and over again had thus far proved a ‘more effective’ means by which to stir her up. As well, the pattern allowed him to enjoy the sensation that his cock craved without overwhelming it too early on into his efforts.

In return for their effectiveness, these thrusts were by far the most difficult that the boy could have produced. Seconds into their production, the draining claustrophobia induced as sex-greased gutmeat was steamrolled from the midsection of his glans to the base of his shaft reduced his earlier breathing pattern to a series of sharp pants. On top of this, the physical strain associated with flogging his cock through the honey-sodden onahhole behind Starfire’s sphincter had him sweating profusely within minutes. 

Strictly speaking, the cock-milking suckle of congealed intestine flesh against his girth should have made extracting himself impossible to begin with. Much like her cunt, contact with Corentin’s cock rendered the hole’s interior a swollen mess of abrasively-textured flesh perfect for bracing a phallus until it burst. Corentin being able to slot himself in and out of its confines in spite of this was purely a consequence of his having learned to manage the sensation before he had even learned to speak properly.

This was not to say that the 4-5 year old was in any way outmatched by his wife. From the initiation of his thrusting metronome onward, Starfire could be observed (and heard) as appreciating every drop of effort that was invested into gaping her asshole.

There was too much about Corentin’s efforts to appreciate for her to not. Past the initial few thrusts that embedded her beloved’s oversized child-cock into her guts, thrusts heavy enough and rapid enough to snake its girth further through her large intestines before eventually tenting a loaf-shaped fraction of them up against the against her abdominal flesh were pumped into near-constantly. Watching this bulge inflate and deflate and feeling the cock responsible for it throb and wriggle within her asshole’s embrace offered the exact ‘brand’ of nerve-rending bliss that Starfire had craved.

But she had even more than this to enjoy. As the pace of Corentin’s thrusts quickened and the weight installed behind them intensified, Starfire enjoyed a front row seat to the muddling of her husband’s features by exertion. 

Somehow, her ideal male was becoming even more ideal. Well used to the sight of him drooling in euphoria whilst his eyes rolled up towards the back of his skull, the expression that she found on his face was a sweaty, closed-eyed focus indicative of his very best effort. 

To her, there was nothing more arousing than the sight of him putting all of himself into satisfying her cravings. Try as she might to keep herself measured whilst her husband did his duty, this ‘additional arousal’ soon began leaking from her frame in the form of speech.

“I-I do not know the best way to say this, but you have truly become even more wonderful h-husband ♥.” Starfire whispered, words impressively concrete for the gut-bloating she was enduring. “Y-Your sexual prowess as a male h-has always impressed me, but thinking and acting while you pulverize my insides like the ‘greedy cocksleeve’ feels especially nice at the moment!”

“How I wish I c-could scream proclaim it t-to everyone…”

Momentarily wistful, Starfire’s eyes trailed away from Corentin’s face towards an aimless stare at the ceiling.

“Were it not that we needed to be so—MNNGH♥— q-quiet, I-I could raise my voice so t-that your entire c-class becomes a-aware of how skilled you are.” she mused. “I-I do not enjoy how close y-your instructors a-are to you, e-either. I-If I were to make the ‘sex noises’, I could c-convince them t-that you are no longer—g-guhh♥”

To reiterate, Starfire’s being conscious throughout her ass-fucking did not render her immune to the pleasure coursing through her midsection. Amidst her babbling, the near-constant bloom of gut-wrapped cockmeat at her midsection eventually stimulated her innards to the point of orgasm. 

Untouched and quivering with need up until this point, this happening saw a sizeable eruption of cunt-syrup burst from between her lower lips up against Corentin’s crotch. Behind the first, haggard splutters of the lubricant jetted out of the orifice until the euphoria she had achieved subsided. Pressurized yet dense, their release was significant enough to leave his meat plastered with the substance whilst simultaneously creating numerous streaks of messy run-off on the floor beneath her.

Not surprisingly, Starfire lost her grasp on the ‘subject’ of her musings throughout her release. During this period, she was forced to contend with the continual injection and withdrawal of Corentin’s cock from her depths as well as the numbing sting of her latest orgasm. Both rendered that much more cutting as a result of their occurring simultaneously, her mind happily discarded its thoughts (both positive and negative) in favor of attending to their combination. 

Lost in the onset of her ‘forgetfulness’ was an opportunity for Starfire to fill the vacant classroom with a never-ending stream of lust-charged utterances. All was not lost on the subject, however. In its place, a different form of the ‘declarative noise’ she had hoped to feed into the classroom was produced instead.

As a result of her orgasm, the sounds created by Corentin’s thrusts became far louder and nastier than they had been prior. Initially, each grease-caked plunge of his member through her sphincter was accompanied by a smooth *PLRP*; a mild noise relative to the envelopment of writhing cockveins with intestine flesh, but one indicative of the hole’s lubricated looseness. Behind them, the momentum built throughout his sloped cock-injections resulted in an inconsistent *PLAP* of his sweat-moistened testicles against Starfire’s sphincter. 

If audible and arousing to the individuals responsible for creating them, neither of these noises were loud enough to consume the room with the sound of sex (much less alert those in the rooms adjacent to it that its confines were being used for something extremely illegal). 

The messes made by Starfire’s orgasm changed all of this. Through it, Corentin’s crotch, cockroot, and testicles were drenched underneath several segmented coatings of female slime. Throughout Starfire’s release and even well after it, these coatings turned the mild clopping and plapping induced by his efforts into noises far more guttural (and appropriate) for the sex that induced them. For every break neck compression of his shaft’s rugged exterior, a vile *SLRSH♥* suggestive of digestion (or at worst, a slurry-riddled orifice’s spreading) surged out into the open air of the classroom. For every retraction, an equally-swamped *SPLORT*—ejective noises accompanied by visible spurts of the lubricants mixed inside her guts against the floor—surged out into the air to complement their predecessors. 

The volume, vehemence, and consistency of these noises quickly resulted in a perpetual ‘buzz’ of sound unmistakable as sloppy, desire-fueled sex. Whether perceived inside the classroom or directly outside it, there could be no denying the ‘variety’ of activity responsible for them.

Thusly, one could say that Starfire had accomplished the goal she had set for herself…

In a sense.

While there could be no denying that sex was occurring inside a vacant daycare classroom, the individuals engaged in it remained ambiguous. Even if one of the facility’s employees were to happen onto the room and the noises leaking from it, presuming the perpetrators to be a 4-5 year old child and Starfire Koriandr was likely to remain too much of a ‘reach’ from a natural perspective.

As such, one could just as easily assert that work remained to be done in Starfire’s addled quest for ‘recognition’—work that she could no longer complete on her own.

Where she had faltered, her husband remained capable of succeeding. Not long after his wife’s sudden orgasm, Corentin’s natural curiosity for the unknown prompted him to quietly check-in on Starfire’s condition. 

Loose as his grasp on ‘marital responsibility’ remained, doing so stood out to be him as more appropriate than not.

“Did you cum lots yet, Starfi? Your insides are all squirmy an’ weird now.” he began, tone touched more so by concern than by the fatigue visible on his face. “I think you squirted a bunch, but you’re not making those ‘stupid bitch noises’ you always make. Did’ja need me t’violate you more?”

Being himself, Corentin did not feel strange about asking this question to a woman facially detached from the world around her. Albeit to a far more modest extent than the very worst of her overfucked expressions, Starfire’s eyes sat rolled up within their sockets whilst her lips could be found in the midst of projecting a muddled ‘o’ shape indicative of utter euphoria.

In this case, however, youthful naiveté was not the sole ‘validator’ for the trust that he displayed. Typically, his speaking to Starfire was followed by her responding. It sometimes took longer than could be considered normal and the words that she produced were sometimes strange, but the older girl always managed some sort of response when addressed by him.

If this pattern was to be broken, it would not be today.

“C-Certainly not, husband! All of the effort you have expended has been most helpful ♥.” consciousness plucked from the dopamine-soaked ether that had consumed it and crammed back where it belonged, Starfire responded to Corentin’s inquiry mere moments after it was placed. Upturned eyes rolled down towards his face and sweat-drenched facial features manipulated into a perversely-accented smile, she again became the Starfire overtly invested in her husband’s comfort.

“I have e-enjoyed no less than 3 orgasms since you began using my anus as the ‘greasy asscunt. It is extremely pleasant and s-satisfying for m-meeeugh♥♥— my only desire is for you to continue just like this!” she explained.

“I-If I seem abnormally quiet, i-it is only because being quiet is necessary. I wish f-for you to continue satisfying m-me for as long as possible, so it is a small p-price to pay.” 

Starfire’s claims were not especially difficult to believe. As Corentin maintained the speed and depth of his thrusts throughout her response, very little leeway was left for her to lie. In the first place, her lying was extremely unlikely as well; according to those that she regarded as companions, Starfire and falsehood rarely mixed.

Despite this, the end of her response saw a frown spread across Corentin’s lips instead of a smile. For him, whether or not Starfire was telling the truth was irrelevant…

He wanted her to make noise. Whether it was good for their coupling or not, he desired to brutalize her asshole such that she’d have no other choice but to squeal out as she sometimes did when the two of them were alone. He did not know why he wanted this, nor did he have any inkling to think on the subject.

But he wanted it—just as a child might their favorite toy.

As such, he reached out to take it. Making the latest of his thrusts his last, he hooked his crotch further inwards to mush its sex-soaked exterior against the squishy fat of Starfire’s outerlips. Then, whilst as deep within her intestines as his current position allowed, he drew his right leg inward from its full-stretch behind his frame. Inches short from planting it opposite the underside of her right thigh (as his left was), he undid his dual-armed hug of her breasts to push her right thigh down to a position that he could use. (From ‘/’ to ‘—’ )

When all was said and done, Starfire’s right leg was returned to a ‘normal’ (extremely obtuse) spread relative to her crotch, and his limb was draped over its doughy midsection as a form of brace.

Earned from this was a depth and weight of penetration that only a child sized as he was could achieve. By draping the underside of his thigh around Starfire’s and harshly tightening the limbs’ contact with one another, Corentin managed to sink his cock to a new depth within her asshole. Phallus exposed to a yet-fucked stretch of taut, oven-temperature gutmeat intent on pulverising his endowment into expulsion, the ‘difference’ between this depth and what he had attained prior was made apparent to him immediately…

But not through the nerve endings of his member.

“G-Goodness ♥ Y-Your cock is so much deeper w-within my greedy shithole, h-husband ♥!” Starfire exclaimed, tone of voice far less quiet than it had been seconds prior. “I-It is s-so stimulating! It is a-as if my i-innards h-have become the ‘cock-sucking-condom’ f-for you! P-Please stir up the meat of m-my asshole more!”

There could be no mistaking it. This would force Starfire to be nosier. He needed only make use of the position for as long as he could.

Donning a mischievous smile, Corentin met his wife’s outburst as though nothing had changed.

“ ‘kay! I’ll make sure you cum lots more, Starfire.” he assured. “Y’gotta be quiet though, ‘member? ‘Else Ms.Julie an’ everyone will know that there’s a kid fucking pervert inside th’ school!”

Indifferent to whether or not Starfire succeeded at this, Corentin dug the toes of his left foot against the ground with more force, and subsequently began thrusting his crotch inwards and outwards as aggressively as he could.

Despite this, Starfire continued to resist.

“Ooough ♥♥. Y-You are most r-right, husband! I-I will try to be q-quieter b-but…”

“You are making it s-so very hard for me to do it~!”

Both focused on accomplishing a personal goal whilst enjoying as much stimulation as possible, Corentin’s adjustment saw the pair’s coupling fast-tracked towards a depraved and disgustingly ‘apparent’ conclusion…

-

PICKING BATTLES

Starfire had never intended to deviate from the plan she had devised. Sneaking into her husband’s educational facility, quietly enjoying copious amounts of sex with him, then sneaking out would see her insides’ drooling itch for the tiny male satiated without the incurrence of undue trouble on either of them. Better still, succeeding in this would provide her with the confidence and know-how to reuse the plan when next the hormones coursing through her grey-matter demanded that she engage in intercourse.

Succinctly, what she stood to gain by following through was supposed to be motivating enough for her to refrain from doing otherwise. She had very nearly succeeded in following through as well. For a time her tolerance for sex and Corentin’s efforts matched up well enough for her to limit herself to the occasional pant or squeak.

Somewhere along the line—somewhere shortly after her husband adopted a position that tented the flesh of her midsection with a loaf-shaped arc of cockmeat thick enough and lengthy enough to make her frame appear as a ‘just-barely’ appropriate match for her husband’s virility—what she stood to gain from following through began paling in comparison to what she stood to gain from deviation.

Try as she might to hold frame in spite of this, she eventually chose immediate gains over any she might accrue in the future. She did this not because of her brain being fucked into a state of non-function, nor because of her perpetual desire to perform as an ideal wife for her husband.

She made this choice because it was what she wanted.

“C-Can you hear me, Daycare Staff? I-I am d-draining Corentin’s balls with my greasy shithole as only the most depraved and desirable of human spouse’s do~!” Starfire cooed, loudly. “H-He is fucking my a-anus so deeply I-I have cum all over m-myself several times! Mnnghh ♥ I-It has even resulted in my ovulation!”

“None of y-you—”

Amidst her boasting, the quality of Corentin’s thrusts plucked a set of raw nerves within her gut that robbed her of the ability to think. Silent throughout their reverberation, she could do nothing but stare aimlessly at the ceiling whilst mucus drooled from her nose and cunt-syrup burst from her fattened womanhood.

When she regained herself, her tone grew louder.

“N-None of you could do s-similarly! Y-You may look after him while I am not p-present, but I am the only—NYUUGHH♥!— female fit to bare his offspring!” she shouted. “I do not w-wish to be rude; I am merely stating facts that I do not believe you are aware of!”

“Now, please listen closely as my husband lathers my asshole with semen~!”

Vindictive feminine satisfaction was not the only ‘gain’ that Starfire made by speaking her thoughts aloud. In response to her squealing, Corentin’s thrusting pattern had begun spoiling her insides with stimulation. Despite the stomach-rending depth he had pressed himself down to, the length of his strokes went uncompressed. At any given moment, she was treated to the sensation of a half-foot of cockmeat swathed with overlapped and finger-thick veins wrenched from her shithole’s gooey embrace, or plunged through its congealed confines like a stake into loamy earth. Simultaneously, the tendril-fat blood vessels zig-zagged across the exterior of her husband’s length squirmed, swelled, and even throbbed against her meat-sleeve with a fervor that framed Corentin’s balls as fit to burst.

Starfire’s perspective on sexual satisfaction was such that no ‘one’ of these sensations superseded the others in value. In her mind, each one contributed to an aggregate pleasure that would not be the same were one to be removed. The stable fullness imposed on her innards when Corentin hilted himself reminded her of her prowess as a wife, and the helpless throbbing that beset his cock assured her that her boasting seconds prior was warranted.

Only her insides could do this to his cock. Perhaps another woman structured as she was could impose such masculine trembling on his shaft, but this was irrelevant.. After all, these women were not married to Corentin. 

She was. Presently, and with any luck, for the remainder of her life.

Fed satisfaction and euphoria from a growing number of sources, the progressive intensification of her pounding did not result in the Tameranian Princess becoming more incoherent. 

Instead, she became more specific—caustically so.

“Y-You are truly missing the out, honored Daycare Staff! Corentin is blending and swirling the most whorish meat of my shithole around his member as his f-favorite leaking f-fleshl—aaaiiughh♥—t!” she exhaled, vocal pitch accented with the slightest hint of mania. “I-If any of you were here, y-you would be able to hear all of the wonderfully disgusting noises my hole is making as it sucks on his cock!”

“If not for the rest of you, I am certain that such noises must b-be of great i-interest to you, Ms. Julie. Y-You may’ve imagined such noises c-coming from one of your holes as my husband inseminates it, but I assure you they are u-unique to me…”

“My h-holes are best at sucking cock, after all ♥.”

While not usually prone to excessive displays of superiority, the phallus pummeling the ends of Starfire’s G.I tract assured her consciousness that the utterances she was producing were more informative than they were mean-spirited. 

Those not listening to the noises made as Corentin rifled the obese baseball-bat affixed to his crotch through one slop-mired invasion of her innards after another were truly missing out. No sooner had the boy adopted his new thrusting pattern had the airspace of the classroom been consumed by a perpetual string of deafening *PLORPS* and *SPLRSHS*. Each harshened by the occasional jetting of female lubrication from her folds, their quality made Starfire herself wonder if it was merely her intestines being pump-fucked as opposed to everything inside her body cavity.

And they were only getting worse. 

As youthful and energetic as could be expected of any growing youth, Corentin’s pace continued to sharpen towards an inevitable ‘bottoming out’. Whenever the inflation of her midsection with cockmeat became more garish, so too did the slurping noises fucked out of her asshole become more sticky and perverse. 

Whereas some ‘fortunate onlooker’ may’ve endured concern for the physicality of the child plumping these noises from her guts, Starfire knew better. What experience she had garnered as the primary sexual partner of a vibrantly virile 4-5 year old, or rather, what experience she had garnered as Corentin’s wife afforded her comfort in the form of knowledge. Whenever her body was subjected to sex like this, the stimulation that Corentin enjoyed was more than likely two fold.

The musings of her marital intuition were not very far off from the truth. Shortly after accomplishing his goal of forcing Starfire to shout out as he gored her asshole, Corentin became far too ‘involved’ with using her insides to accomplish anything else. This was to say that his grin slackened into something resembling an open-mouthed iteration of the emoji with the zig-zag lips— you know which one I’m talking about? Man, fuck nigga, why is there no word for this I hate writing. This one:

Seconds later, the corners of his lips were plastered with drool, and, try as he certainly did to reign himself in, the centers of his eyes were invaded by miniature hearts of their own. 

Subsequently, his focus became his own stimulation. Far too long had he suffered through the molten weight bottled up at the root of his shaft. Far too many times had he felt the padded bloat of Starfire’s congealed guts coil around, then vigorously constrict the bloat of his erection in an attempt at halting it. His eyes could hardly differentiate one of the monstrous, pudge-padded surges of his length at her stomach from another, but all the same, looking at it had become maddening.

Now was the time for release.

To this end, he devoted all of himself to replicating the garroting sensation mushed from the root of his member to its tip. In exchange for some of the more complex cognitive faculties he had gained over the course of the past year, his frame was all too happy to regularly gore and wrench his erection from the serpentine muscle of Starfire’s asshole as quickly as he desired. No matter the lubricant spluttered back against his ingress or plastered to his crotch and testicles throughout his retreat, Corentin’s nubile musculature heeded his mind’s demand—its addiction— to the pressurized slurping of Starfire’s asspussy.

For a time, his efforts suggested that his frame was just as ‘alien’ as the woman he was driving himself into. In spite of the reservoir of seed welled up at the root of his member having expanded into a swampy ocean, none of the half-foot thrusts he produced proved stimulating enough to draw a drop of it out of its phallic prison. Though the meat of his erection became just slightly pinker and fatter as a result of the strain placed on it, the jackhammer-speed ‘status quo’ heralded by his loss of himself refused to dissipate.

If allowed, Corentin would have continued like this until something inside of him failed. Unlike his wife, he maintained neither the experience nor maturity to appropriate his desires to the time and place they were to be expelled. Separately, his lust-soaked mind did not consider moderation to be necessary—only a release commensurate to the effort he expended.

Starfire disagreed; only partially, but enough so to finally express some of the good-natured deference fucked from her by Corentin’s cock.

At last releasing the locks she had looped around her legs, she dropped her hands down to a shared cupping of Corentin’s cheeks. Simultaneously, she lowered her legs down to an ankle-locked cross at the middle of his back. 

Before any of her four limbs could rest against the boy’s frame for a second, she pushed. Legs forcing his latest thrust to a faculty-destroying depth within her guts and palms squeezing his cheeks with an aggressive affection, she accelerated Corentin’s efforts to their logical conclusion all on her own.

And for good reason.

“You t-tease me far too C-Corentin! Y-Your member wants to erupt inside me, so please do it ♥. Fill your wife’s ‘greasy shithole’ with the rancid sludge of your manhood ♥♥!”

“Let me drink all of iiiiiiit~!”

Cooing these requests whilst her eyes rolled up into a delirious stare at the ceiling, the ‘itch’ that had driven Starfire to these lengths did not intend to leave her husband any leeway with which to deny her. An ounce of her superhuman strength was all that she required to lock his tiny frame into an ‘embrace’ from which he’d never escape, but she refused to stop at this. Just as she felt the throbbing of his shaft reach its peak, she turned her squishing of the boy’s cheeks into a smothering of his face against her breasts with a simple flick of her wrists.

Subsequently, her request was granted. Behind a monstrous wriggle of fluid through the finger-wide swell of Corentin’s urethra, a pressurized burst of the congealed adhesive-filler stored within his balls splattered out against the intestine flesh wrapped around his glans.

Behind the first came others. So many, in fact, that Starfire lost count after the second.

-

A FUN AND INSTRUCTIVE ENVIRONMENT FOR CHILDREN

Typically, the discharge of semen into an orifice is silent. More so felt than observed, those privy to the occurrence are naturally limited to those engaged in the intercourse that brings it about. In this, the fulfilling exclusivity of the act is consummated by way of one of its primary purposes: reproductive satisfaction for those involved with it.

I have no idea what the fuck any of that is supposed to be mean, but where Starfire and her young husband are concerned, what is ‘typical’ rarely—if ever—holds.

The first strand of semen to glut the depths of Starfire’s intestines offered a length on par with her forearm and a width just short of parity with her thumb. Largely white and devoid of the chunked, oatmeal-like qualities sometimes seen in Corentin’s more ‘pent’ loads, its appearance was as usual: a bulbous and overly dense resin concentrated to the point of mild discoloration. This was to say that the largely-white muck owned the slightest yellow tinge, and a surface texture of a heated rubber unwilling to abandon some of its namesake qualities.

A healthy rope of this substance was packed into a pocket of intestine flesh no larger than Corentin’s glans was thick. Not surprisingly, the preoccupation of this cavity with cockmeat resulted in the inflation of a crescent-moon shaped bulb of gutmeat at the peak of the bestial distension raised at Starfire’s middle.

In her familiarity with Corentin’s orgasms and the bloating of her middle with bulbs of semen-packed intestine flesh, Starfire reflexively ‘adjusted’ her husband’s position to spare her body cavity undue strain. Loosening the ankle-knot she had set atop his back, she allowed the suffocating youth just enough room to drag his cock backwards through the hell of stimulation that was consuming it. Despite his failing to extract himself in a meaningful sense of the term, his retreat lowered the tenting of her midsection with cockmeat and instead pointed his squirting cocktip at her bowels head on.

By the time a 5th (and no less monstrous) blurt of semen surged out through the nose of his glans, the full span of her depths sat in place to ‘catch’ it. Unlike the handful of strands caked to the intestine-lining most immediate to his glans (a volume of semen just shy of constituting a miniature blockage within her depths), those released past this point were draped across (or splattered against) far more deeply situated stretches of gutmeat. Carried as far as the pressure backing them could manage, the voluminous loogies first coated these stretches with a vile assortment of swimmer-packed threads before completely obscuring their puffy exteriors underneath congealed nut.

The consequences for this were natural, and to the surprise of fucking no one, noisy. Such was the size of the load that Corentin had built up that utterly fattening a given stretch of Starfire’s intestines took very little away from its overall volume. Thus, as a given section of her innards was made a sausage filled with sludge, the span of intestine required to accommodate his seed increased. 

Again and again did this pattern play out until her internal tubing bottomed out into her stomach. All the while nauseating, *GLORPS* AND *SLRSHS* reminiscent of tar’s pumping through some kind of U-bend rumbled out of Starfire’s midsection at a volume that matched her earlier squealing.

Funnily enough, Starfire’s enjoyment of proceedings did not see similar exclamations fed past her lips as this occurred. Mentally worn by her own lofty definition of the term, what she managed was limited to the same awed babble she produced each and every time her husband poured his seed inside of her.

What separated this instance of speech from any of the others was its focal point, and to a lesser extent, the fact that a single strand of clear mucus could be seen leaking down from her right nostril as she spoke.

“Ouuughhh ♥♥ H-How wonderful~! Receiving your semen inside my gooey asspussy is most wonderful, Corentin!” yelled Starfire. “I-It is as t-thick and—hmyugh♥—dense as u-usual...C-Continuing to fill me like this will surely leave my stomach a most impressive sac of the cockjuice ♥.”

“It is such a s-shame that none of the staff members here can see! S-Surely they—”

Briefly, another of the ‘threads’ tethering Starfire’s consciousness to reality had its function inundated by the sensation of sperm cells squirming against his capillaries. In response to it, her eyes crossed, and the words spilling from between her lips were replaced by a choked *Gyuuuh~♥* reminiscent of the orgasmic squealing of a far less ‘well-mannered’ brand of woman.

Yet again, her regaining herself coincided with the loss of her earlier train of thought. What remained was further praise for the child pumping semen through her intestines, and further descriptions of the ‘soothing’ that she was treated to as a result.

“Goodness, m-my itch is d-disappearin’ as’h well!” she continued, words inflected by the slightest slur. “Abandoning my duties t-to have your chubby reproductive cells squirted into my stomach t-truly was the best chois’h I could have made!”

“I-I love you s-so much Corentin!”

Whilst uttering these words, the consequence that Starfire had described was bloated to its peak in prevalence. After some seconds spent in the midst of a sluggish, gurgle-laden fattening with Corentin’s seed, the distension of her midsection became fat enough (and wobbly enough) to suggest ‘pregnancy’ with a form of glutted semi-solid. Rendered as such by way of her intestine’s clogging and an inevitable ‘bottoming out’ of Corentin’s orgasm within her stomach, its scale left nothing to the imagination as to the sheer amount of nut fed into her throughout the initial half minute of his release. 

The inundation of her gut to this point—while significant to Starfire herself—meant very little to the youth responsible for it. Effectively dead to the world, the stimulation coursing up his spine (not to mention the oxygen deprivation choking his consciousness) rendered Corentin a silent accessory to his own orgasm. No degree of muddy semen-backdraft vomited out against his crotch by the over-stuffing of Starfire’s folds nor cock-milking convulsion of G-I tract against the root of his cock could draw the boy’s waning consciousness into the event any further than it had been already.

Conversely, Starfire’s voice accomplished this with ease. The moment a breast-muffled rendition of her final utterance hit his ears, something within him decided that continuing to live was more worthwhile than suffocating in orgasm. 

Pushing up and off of Starfire’s front with both hands, Corentin rolled out of her legs’ withered embrace of his spine until his back flopped down into a flat plant against the ground to her immediate left. Much of his motion was stymied by the continued sucking of her asshole and sphincter to his cock, but with enough insistence, every inch of the partially-erect hole-ruiner was sloppily unholstered from the cratered hole’s grasp.

With this, his ‘state’ and Starfire’s finally achieved a form of parity. No more (or less) functional for the effort, Corentin took this opportunity to pant through his drool glazed maw and affirm his existence. Similarly, Starfire worked to normalize her breathing, and paid no mind to the semen-caked sinkhole that had replaced her asshole.

Were one willing to look past the gross sexual depravity in their appearances, laying eyes on them as they were was likely to inspire feelings of ‘cuteness’ in a layman.

Likely, but far from guaranteed.

If one owned the identity of a certain early childhood educator concerned with the health and safety of an especially sunny child, the sight of them—as framed through an ajar classroom door, for example—was far more likely to inspire feelings of nausea and disgust.

Of course, every individual is different. For as likely as it is that one such educator might feel revulsion, their feeling something else alongside this revulsion remains equally possible. Whether arousal, jealousy, or a bizarre mixture of both, the scene made between Starfire and Corentin supported anything that could be imagined:

All by virtue of a boy and his spouse laying with one another.


	3. Skipping Work to Ingest Your Husband's Semen

  
  


Like the majority of her female peers on the planet earth, Starfire Koriandr acclimated to the advent of ‘smart’ technology very quickly. Unlike her half-baked understanding of an ever growing list of earthling customs and conventions, the use of these devices and the purposes that they could serve within her daily life were subjects that her formalized thought processes had a much easier time digesting—given an appropriate amount of time and effort.

  
  


When first she learned of the devices, her motivation for familiarizing herself with them was no different from what typically spurred her onto a given ‘earthling learning venture’. As an alien, attaining proficiency with the technologies of earth and immersing herself in its culture seemed to her as two of the foremost avenues through which she might naturalize to the planet. Having yet to master any of the other facets of life on Earth—at least not to the extent that she desired—another opportunity to do so was welcomed by her with open arms.

  
  


Initially, her progress was slow. Between her work as a superheroine and her investment in other learning activities, time to immerse herself into the functionality of apps and the general handling of the devices was scarce. Try as she might to make use of this time efficiently, what proficiency she acquired after 6 months of following this approach was only barely sufficient for her to successfully answer phone calls, compose text messages, and add individuals to her contact list without assistance.

  
  


The months-long sabbatical taken by her to facilitate her marriage to a 3-4 year child was the period wherein most of her progress was made. By temporarily cutting off contact with her friends and family (save a single, grey-skinned individual), the amount of time that the Tameranian princess had to herself flourished. When not engaging in graphic, physically-degenerative intercourse with her husband or bonding with him so as to strengthen their relationship, most all of her free time was spent fiddling with her phone. Whether in the midst of simple household chores or the ‘idle time’ that cropped up throughout the outings and activities she shared with Corentin, no period of time proved too short for her to learn something about the device she owned.

  
  


Upon returning to part-time work as a Teen Titan, the level of proficiency that she displayed made her almost indistinguishable from a modern young woman—at least whilst her phone was in her hands. Whereas the majority of her teammates were far more interested in the veracity of city reports that suggested her to be an unrepentant pedophile who willfully engaged in gross sex acts on public television, the presentation of her prowess nevertheless proved distracting enough for this subject to be ‘shelved’ so that Starfire could be praised for her effort.

  
  
  


A year into her ‘learning effort’, Starfire currently regards her abilities as something of a double-edged sword. While her use of the technology facilitated easy communication with her husband on days wherein her work forced them to be apart, the methods of notification that she opened herself up to through social media inadvertently resulted in further infringements on her personal life.

  
  


At one point, skipping out on her duties as a heroine was as simple as pretending not to be smart enough to answer her phone. Presently, however, the apps through which she can be reached (and the obviousness of her prowess) has rendered it very difficult for her to play ‘hooky’ with her significant other when she so desires to.

  
  


While this circumstance has not stopped her from taking time off in accordance to her whims, her persistent availability has led to many instances of inconvenient contact between her and her teammates.

  
  


The frequency of these inconvenient calls and the ire drawn from Starfire as a result of them has thus far resulted in the creation of an unspoken rule amongst the Teen Titans:

  
  


If it’s not a matter of life or death, do not message Starfire.

-

  
  


**THE RESIDENCE OF CORENTIN & STARFIRE— 11AM**

  
  
  


Frowning, Starfire pressed her frame through a crack in her bedroom door just wide enough for the wobbling excess of her to slide through. Phone in hand, the first step that she took into the natural light of the hallway behind the door coincided with a vehement wrench of the device up to the height of her bust. Suppressing her anger throughout the gesture, she repeatedly stamped the face of her thumb against her phone screen to unlock the device and dial a number responsible for no less than 11 of the notifications on her phone screen.

  
  


This done, she pressed it up to her ear, and waited.

  
  


“....”

  
  


“Oh  **FUCK** ! Thank god, nigga! Thank you jesus, thank yoooooouuuuuu! Star, girl, the  **FUCK** is going on?! A nigga is bleeding out here, damn!”

  
  


As implied by the contact to which the number was tied, the voice that blared from her phone’s speaker after the connection of the call belonged to Cyborg. Voice distressed, yet largely obscured by a mixture of static and far-off explosions, one could infer from these things that his current circumstance was extremely dire in nature.

  
  


Assuming one was interested in doing so, of course.

“Morning greetings, Cyborg. To what do I owe this most inconvenient and bothersome call?” Starfire replied, voice consumed by a cordial venom. “If it is not something important, I will be ending this call and returning to my morning with my husband.”

  
  


Cyborg made several attempts at responding to this utterance following its placement. Each time, one of an explosion or a sickening crunch of his chassis against cement or metal prevented him from speaking out.

  
  


When finally he managed a response, the desperation within his voice had worsened two fold.

  
  


“THE FUCK YOU MEAN, BOTHERSOME? I’M DYING OUT HERE; NIGGAS IS DYING OUT HERE, STARFIRE!!” he bellowed. “Some new mans is attacking the city! I swear he’s on some shit I’ve never seen before—my nigga is using magic and shit, some ol’ craziness! Everyone’s down here tryna stop him, but we need your help— wait, what the FUCK are you doing that’s so important? BITCH, YOU’RE A SUPERHEROINE! ”

  
  


As mild as ever, Starfire took no offense to Cyborg's tone or address. Shrugging following its passage, she afterwards produced a retort no more ‘displeased’ than her greeting had been.

  
  


“Well, I do not think that I should need to repeat this, but I am as much a Teen Titan as I am the ‘housewife’. I have worked numerous hours in the preceding weeks, have I not? I believe this entitles me to a certain amount of the ‘off time’ by earth’s employment protocols, does it not?”

  
  


“TIME OFF? WE’RE GOING TO DIE—OH F-FUCK! NO, A NIGGA HAS MY ARM!! MY ROBOTIC ARM, NIGGA, NOOOOOO!!!”

  
  


“Our protection of earth is most vital, but it sounds as though you and the rest of the team will triumph without my aid. Please do not call for me again; I will not answer.”

  
  


“STAR, PLEASE!! IT’S COMING OFF!! NIGGA’S RIPPING MY ARM OFF OH DAMN, OH FUCK, IT HURTS NIGGA, PLEASE STAR, FUCK, PLE—”

  
  


“Goodbye, Cyborg. Have a pleasant evening—I will see you when next I return to the tower.”

  
  


As promised, Starfire disconnected the call the moment she finished speaking. Amidst peeling her phone from off of her ear and turning back to face the bedroom door behind her, the frustration that had invaded her face and posture disappeared. More accurately, they were forced out of her; where she was going, she no longer needed them. 

  
  


Upon taking her first half-step, half-wiggle back into the sunlit confines of her bedroom, Starfire again became the woman that had stepped from out of it:

  
  


The sunny, obscenely-depraved wife of a 4-5 year old child.

  
  


“Are you okay, Starfire?” Corentin asked, worried curiosity spread across his face. “You only get calls in the morning when stuff is super bad. Is somethin’ scary happening with your job thing?”

  
  


Despite having planned to reintroduce herself into the sex-scented confines of the bedroom as her changed demeanor dictated, her re-entrance into the room saw her husband greet her before she could speak out. Surprised by the gesture (but ultimately elated by its meaning), Starfire raised her line of sight up towards the bed-spread youth and shook her head. As she did so, she accelerated her stride just slightly to bring herself up to a standing position near Corentin that much sooner.

  
  


Between the moisture within the air and its infusion with the stench of the boy’s semen, sweat, and hormones, these few strides were sufficient to enhance Starfire’s ‘good mood’ into something more potent altogether.

  
  


“Yes, Corentin. All is well, but I very much appreciate your asking on my behalf. As always it makes me feel very special  ♥ .” she replied, brightly. “My companions simply wished to call and confirm something with me. They are already aware that I have planned to spend these next few days with you, so they would  **never** attempt to separate us for something trivial.”

  
  


“Had they tried, I wouldn’t have gone; leaving you at that daycare building has become increasingly infuriating for me of late...” throughout this utterance, Starfire raised a hand up to her chin and began thinking on why it was she felt this frustration in the first place. Still ignorant to the more basal workings of her mind, she naively abandoned her thoughts on the subject and returned to speaking a few seconds later.

  
  


“Well, it matters not. We are together today, and we shall continue making the most of it!” she affirmed. “As the morning is waning, I will order some food for breakfast so that I do not have to leave your side. After that, if you are not tired, of course, we can continue with attempts at my insemination  ♥ .”

  
  


“You would enjoy this activity as well, would you not?”

  
  


Starfire did not ask this question with the expectation of an answer. Stating it more so as reiteration of an itinerary that had already been agreed upon, she moved from the utterance onto a deliberate tapping of her thumbs against her phone screen moments later.

  
  


Now more so than ever, she was confident that her suitor would understand her.

  
  


And he did. At 4-5 years of age, Corentin’s understanding of the word ‘insemination’ was slightly more concrete than it had been a year prior. The role that it played in reproduction remained unclear to him, as did the reason why it appealed to Starfire so. So far as he was concerned, the act referred to a child-making activity that was extremely enjoyable for him, and more importantly, for Starfire.

  
  


Clever for his age in regards to the compartmentalization of his thoughts, Corentin had long since assured himself that he didn’t need to know any more than this. When he did, the world would tell him so—just as it had suggested a need for coyness when others questioned him as to his relation to Starfire.

  
  


Having already spent several hours of his day engaging in the activity of ‘insemination’—this after spending several hours of the previous day doing the same—Corentin did not bother refreshing himself on what he already knew. When prompted by Starfire, he wordlessly nodded, and instead began spending the freetime that she had provided him to remind himself of why attempting to inseminate his wife was so enjoyable in the first place.

  
  


Presently, Starfire’s appearance was that of a sex-addled and happily dishevelled iteration of her usual self. Dressed within the same clothing she had fallen asleep in—a jet-black, athletically-modelled (i.e hookless) brasserie trimmed underneath its cleavage section with white elastic and a matching pair of panties owning a thumb-width hip line composed of the same material—she was to him the epitome of ideals he did not yet know that he had.

  
  


What he did know was that he liked these ideals. He liked the supple gloss her exposed flesh had garnered from the sweat pushed through her pores by their sex. The ridiculous engorgement of her brassiere's semen-stained material by her F-cup breasts—a circumstance that teased the bloat of her nipples at the front of its conjoined cups and exposed a gelatinous, fat-infused excess of cleavage below her neck—fit his definition of cute. The same was true of the matted, messy arrangement of her hair, and the strands of pubic-hair that curiously persisted to either side of her lips. He did not know why, and he didn’t care because homeboy is fucking 4 or so years old. Did your parents ask you why you thought Pokemon was tight when you were 4? The fuck out of here.

  
  


The boy’s fixation with what her upper body offered did not blind him to the rest of her frame. Having met Starfire well after her graduation from pencil thinness, the squishy, curve-indented width of her waist did not attract much attention from him. Similarly, the mammoth span of her hips, a width just under double what most other women seemed to own, seemed normal to him. 

  
  


Not surprisingly, it was the semen splattered to the surface of her inner thighs and the egregiously semen-caked exterior of her panties that consumed most of his attention. Spread across the hidden face of her legs were numerous strands of thick, mildly-discolored semen left to an unobstructed drool from out of her cunt. Slow moving and obscenely-adhesive, their volume and distribution suggested to the eye that a clotted load of cum had been devoted solely to the coverage of her thighs surface. A sane individual might’ve assumed precisely this, but Corentin knew for a fact that the compressed splatters were composed of semen he had poured into her womb hours prior. This knowledge added a flare of ‘personal appeal’ to his appreciation of her frame—one very similar to the appreciation felt by the commissioner of an imagined work of art on presentation with a final product.

  
  


Predictably, what time that Corentin invested in basking in Starfire’s appeal did not go unnoticed by the woman in question. Well used to the feeling of being watched (no matter how loosely) Starfire intentionally prolonged the composition of her breakfast order so as to remain in position as long as she could. Then, when no further time could be bought, she shamelessly surged inward into a familiarly aggressive pounce onto Corentin's bedded frame.

  
  


In this, she was precise. Whereas she could have playfully flopped down onto his naked frame, she structured her descent to take on the shape of a low squat above his crotch. First digging the toes of both of her feet into the mattress space to either side of his hips, she next depressed her lower body until her crotch and midsection were delivered into contact with the underside of his cock. A length from her panty-covered womanhood up to a point past the base of her cleavage’s front face was the extent of her body’s contact with the pulsing mast-a length that most women were likely to regard as some mixture of frightening and arousing.

  
  


Though quite sensitive to the phallus in her own right, Starfire paid its contact with her stomach very little attention.

  
  


Right then, the face staring back at her was far more important.

  
  


“Being looked at like that is very motivating, husband. Am I to understand that you have come to enjoy looking at me as the sex object  ♥ ?” Starfire asked, playfully. 

  
  


After these words left her lips, a girlish pout spread across them. Curiously, though, its appearance coincided with a not so subtle descent of her left hand towards the face of her panties.

  
  


“Please do not make me appear so greedy; do something that will allow me to believe I am not taking choices away from you, won’t you?” she requested, playfully. “I can still help myself at the moment, so I do not have any excuse not to ask this of you.”

  
  


Astute in his observation of Starfire’s needs, nothing that the alien woman uttered was lost on Corentin. As soon as she finished speaking, he raised his palms into contact with the softened grooves of her hips (specifically the fat-padded fringes that his hands could actually reach), and smiled up at her so as to assuage her concerns.

  
  


“S’okay. I like this just as much as doing stuff, too.” he replied. “How about we kiss, then? I kinda feel like I might start complaining or something later, so that’d gimme somethin’ to do instead!”

  
  


“‘Sides, I don’t mind having more cockjuice drained outta me if you’re the perver, perverd—tch, if you’re the **stupud sludge toilet** that’s doing it. You’re cutest when you’re the one doin’ it anyway.” he added.

  
  


Ever sensitive to even the slightest of compliments, these words charged Starfire with a combination of arousal and fulfilment strong enough to push her squat upwards by a key length of inches. Rendered wide-eyed and flushed throughout the second-long ascent, her arrival at the peak intended by her instincts—a point that just so happened to align her swollen, sex-greased lower lips with the peak height of his glans—initially appeared as though it would not be complimented by anything of significance. 

  
  


Following her right hand’s descent into contact with the midsection of Corentin’s cock, what little signage suggested this disappeared into thin air.

“Your kind words honor me more so than I deserve, husband. I have always known that you’ve accepted me despite my tendency to behave as the ‘stupid fucking cockjuice toilet’, but to be appreciated regardless of this fault even now is a wonderful expression of love  ♥ .” earlier awe melted into a warm affection, Starfire produced these words whilst an adoring smile bloomed at her lips. Upon convincing herself that she had conveyed precisely what her husband’s comments had made her feel, this smile was diluted by the same perverse need that had facilitated her squatting position above him.

  
  


“To honor your compliments, I will be as greedy as my heart desires  ♥ . I am going to milk  **every congested drop of husband’s stinking babyjuice** inside my womb all by myself.” she affirmed. “I will be doing so in a manner that you will enjoy very much, so I hope that you will cooperate with me.”

  
  


“And before I forget—”

  
  


Recalling Corentin’s request partway through her utterance, Starfire dropped her hips to set about fulfilling it. Thoughtlessly skewering the drooling, sex-reddened bloat of Corentin’s glans between her syrup-glazed lower lips, she supplemented gravity’s depression of her frame with a sharply-angled ‘dump’ of her lower body’s mass down towards his crotch. In doing so, the inches of monstrously-vascular, canal-fattening cockmeat below the nose of his shaft were messily engulfed into her womanhood’s embrace within an instant. From the mouth of her folds up through to a pleasantly-nauseating depression of her semen-greased cervix, the full length of the drooling canal was made to resume its suckle to the girth of his cock.

  
  


Little changed in regards to her handling of the event. Despite having been drilled with the same writhing loaf of phallus flesh less than an hour prior, filling her cum-plastered innards with Corentin’s meat this way (and later depressing her battered cervix with its glans) again rendered the older woman as cross-eyed and shudder-struck. Midsection mildly distended by his cocktip’s hooked depression of her cervix and brainstem unfairly assaulted by stimulation, the stage seemed set for another stupefying orgasm to surge through her frame into a syrup-laden discharge from the mouth of her cunt.

  
  


But Starfire refused to participate. Within seconds of her depression, the animalistic bliss that had consumed her face was progressively replaced by the ‘self’ that its encroachment had shattered. Following its return, she descended. Still skewered from root to tip with Corentin’s cock, she pushed her torso back down towards contact with his chest whilst deepening the ball’s-deep squat she had set herself into. Then, when finally her lips returned to a tantalizing hover above his own, she finished the sentence that the stuffing of her cunt had abbreviated...

  
  


This without even the slightest loss of quality for her voice.

  
  


“We shall kiss as much as you like ♥ .”

  
  
  


This uttered, Starfire dropped her lips with the same hunger she had her hips. Parting the sex-greased pillows throughout her skull’s descent, she aggressively smothered the much-smaller span of Corentin’s lips and effortlessly invaded the interior of his mouth with her tongue. Nevertheless restraining herself such that he’d be able to reciprocate if he so desired, the ‘starved’ quality of the gesture was balanced by a certain amount of forethought and intent.

  
  


The pumping of her rear that complimented the act did not enjoy such tempering. As soon as the flavor of Corentin’s tongue was reintroduced into her mouth, Starfire put the position she had assumed to use in the facilitation of a lengthy ascent of her rear up along the bloat of his cock. Stamping the wobbling mass of flesh straight back down this stretch of inches as swiftly (and deeply) as she could manage, she soon slipped into the exact sort of strenuous, cock-milking metronome that she had warned her husband about seconds prior.

  
  


Having fulfilled her promise to Corentin with her kiss, her mind seamlessly moved onto its next ‘order of business’:

  
  


Satisfying her greed.

-

**HOW TO SPEND A DAY AT HOME**

  
  
  


Being a child, Corentin was not yet capable of making consistently sound decisions. Most that he made were at worst passable, and at best slightly impressive for a 4-5 year old child. 

  
  


The decisions that he made regarding his wife were exceptions to this rule. Where Starfire was concerned, every thought that the boy produced was one backed by a wealth of consideration and experience. Having lived alongside the woman since before he could speak properly, producing these decisions was natural for him. He knew what was likely to work out best innately, and in cases where optimal decisions were impossible to make, he always knew what choice was likely to result in happiness for Starfire herself.

  
  


His opting to allow Starfire to milk his cock without any sort of restriction as to how was one such ‘Starfire-oriented’ decision. Sweaty and fatigued from the orgasms he had spilled inside her since awakening hours prior, he reasoned that allowing her to expend some energy and affection would provide him with time to rest whilst ensuring that she continued to enjoy herself.

  
  


Initially, his assumption proved correct. After initiating their kiss, Starfire moved her hands from idle positions atop the mattress space beside him up into contact with his chest. Utilizing his frame to assist in balancing her own, she subsequently focused herself on gouging a fraction of his cock in and out of the mess of flesh and sexual-fluid packed into her womanhood.

  
  


How she did so was monstrous. Using only the tips of her toes and the musculature of her thighs, she repeatedly pressed her rear several inches upwards so as to peel a meagre fraction of Corentin’s cock from her folds’ grasp. Assisted in the effort by a mixture of fresh cunt-syrup and semen smeared against her inner walls by way of drainage. Each of these upward pops were managed by her lower body without considerable difficulty. The only evidence that suggested otherwise was a haggard splatter of chunked jizz and sexual lubricant that was repeatedly drawn from her depths alongside Corentin’s meat.

  
  


After extracting these inches, Starfire squeezed each of them straight back into the gluey prison she had wrenched them from. Visibly addicted to the feeling of having the entirety of her womanhood clamor against the impossible bloat of her husband’s member, she threw the fat-infused dough of her rear back down across these inches such that the weight of her ass and the glutted conditions within her cunt would be felt by her tiny suitor with the same vehemence as her ascents. Succinct and slovenly, these depressions also induced sodden *CLORP*(s) birthed by her buttocks fat colliding with Corentin’s thighs, and the face of her cunt descending into a gooey compression against the semen-smeared face of his crotch.

  
  


As if descent in itself was not pleasurable enough (whether for herself or for Corentin), the completion of a given descent was not immediately followed by its compliment. Upon hilting herself, Starfire exacerbated the weight of her ass by swirling her hips. Drawing a single narrow circle with her lower body, she in doing so ground the bulbous tautness of her folds around the inflamed exterior of Corentin’s shaft whilst every inch of it was present to torment. Bulbous, slime-glazed canal-lining was rolled around the twitching bloat of his phallus’ veins (movements that resulted in their spans being compressed more harshly), and the phallus meat supporting them was denied any form of expression that did not involve hopelessly writhing. 

  
  


Starfire was not particularly taxed by this additive, either. On completion of a single rotation, she seamlessly transitioned back into an ascent to begin her cycle anew.

  
  


If obscenely pleasurable (and wildly unnecessary), these ministrations were not beyond Corentin’s capacity for pleasure. Seamless aggression from Starfire was the norm—more so in cases wherein she stated her intent to display it. All the same, the initial seconds of her bouncing struck the boy as being ‘more or less’ in line with his expectations.

  
  


Soon, however, they changed. Beginning with a sudden unhooking of Starfire’s tongue from out of the back of his throat, the nature of her ministrations enjoyed ‘escalations’ that required him to think on his feet.

  
  


Being 5, such proactivity was currently beyond him.

  
  


“O-Oh, this is rather troublesome, isn’t it?” exhaled Starfire, voice just slightly ‘touched’ by the sexual effort that she was exerting. “I’ve kissed with husband for a few minutes now and have been stirring my innards with his cock very aggressively, yet you still won’t give me your cockjuice...”

  
  


“What is it, husband? Do you require further effort from me, or are you simply hoping that I will  **fuck myself into a stupor** before such a thing happens? In either case, you’re not making it very easy for me to have my way, you know  ♥ .”

  
  


Though very clearly inundated with sexual pleasure, Starfire’s thoughts and utterances were coherent. Evidently, something about proceedings—likely the fact that she had yet to enjoy another injection of semen into her womb—had drawn her to conclude that her ministrations were lacking something.

  
  


‘Desperate’ for something that might point her in the right direction, she began pressing her husband for information. Beginning with words, she soon complimented her utterances with a conjoining of her hands’ index and middle fingers, and a circular swirling of the sandwiched digits’ faces against the boy’s chest. Once initiated, she pushed her skull inwards from its hover overtop his face down to a ‘resting’ position nestled up against his right ear. Here, she turned her lips in towards the organ and pushed several cock-addled exhalations of air out against it.

  
  
  


After a half dozen, she continued speaking.

  
  


“ _ I can’t be greedy if husband doesn’t feed my womb his babyjuice. I wish only to grind a disgusting volume of it out inside my womb. As your wife and sow, this is my right—it is my right to bloat myself fat on husband’s squirming cells _ .” she whispered.

  
  


“ _ It’s mine and mine alone. You do recall that you are doing me a service each time you splatter those most chunky loads inside me, do you not? I can both relieve your stress, and strive ever closer to one day birthing your child. A greater gift does not exist for me  _ ♥ _. _ ”

  
  


Corentin did not distrust Starfire’s utterances. Her current method of conveyance was very grating for his consciousness, but none of the subjects she had spoken on were new to him. One way or another, she managed to remind him of them each and every time the two of them engaged in sex.

  
  


His inability, or rather, his refusal to respond to them was a matter of childish stubbornness. Starfire was unlikely to exhaust herself if he spilled his seed as she had requested. If anything, blowing semen inside of her now was far more likely to make her hungry for more. Gifted with an implicit understanding of this fact, he naturally resisted the boiling pressure within his crotch and the wriggling convulsions of the cuntflesh surrounding it in hopes that his intent might surmount Starfire’s desire. 

  
  


For his commitment to this belief, he paid an all too familiar price. Shortly after the last of her utterances, the throbs that rippled through the veins of his cock grew heavier, and the bloat of his erection grew thicker.

  
  


Immediately alerted as to what was occurring within him, Starfire halted her bouncing pattern inches short of another hilt of his member into her folds. Upon settling into a position that denied her cervix a perfect tenting with the nose of his member (thereby denying her slobbering inner walls the impetus required to squeeze down on the trunk of Corentin’s phallus with their usual aggression), she pulled her lips away from his ear and again drew her face up to a short-range hover atop his own.

  
  


This time smirking down at the boy instead of smiling, her completion of this transition saw the swirling of her fingers intensified to match his sharpened heart rate.

  
  


“Since you’re being mean, I shall be mean as well, husband  ♥ .” seemingly unaffected by the abbreviation of her descent, Starfire spoke out in a tone addled more so by mischief than lust. “I shall remain just like this until you cum. Until I feel a  **greasy splurt** of husband Corentin’s squirmy babyjuice against my womb, I will not descend another inch. It is a very awful thing for a wife to do, but when husband is this fussy, I am left with no other choice…”

  
  


“In fact…”

  
  


Recognizing flashes of choked distress on Corentin’s face, Starfire pushed her ‘abandonment’ of the youth one step further. With the same energy she  _ could  _ have applied to depressing herself, she instead resumed swirling her hips without taking any more of the boy’s cock into her folds. Vehement in her intent, she drew slow, deliberately-crafted circles with her hips to reinitiate her bloated canal’s juicing of his cock’s flesh. As had been the case before, each cycle that she completed dragged the steeled veins studding his shaft’s exterior against a heavy, yet equally ‘squishy’ sleeve of canal flesh utterly glutted with a mixture of sexual fluids—this while its interior writhed and squirmed with need.

  
  


Beset by additional stimulation, Starfire remained stalwart. Holding her facial expression and depth of penetration, she forced herself to continue speaking even whilst the budding sting of another orgasm began to spread within her uterus.

  
  


“Perhaps I need to motivate you a bit more? I’m certain it must be absolutely awful to have your cock throbbing a-and swelling while I’m doing this.” she suggested, sweetly. “I-I’ll stop if you cum, husband. You’ll get to squirt everything out right inside my womb if you feed it what it desires—wouldn’t that be so much nicer than this? As we are the spouses, we shouldn’t fight with one another…”

  
  


“So cum. Cum lots. Dump everything inside me before I wring it out o—”

  
  


***BLORT-SPLATT-SPURTT***

  
  
  


Mid-utterance, visceral noises propagated from Starfire’s midsection robbed her of the ability to speak. Though barely audible in reality, the chunked thickness of their quality was perceived by her as though the noises were produced directly opposite her eardrums. Induced within the same second of their appearance were repeated injections of heat and weight against her cervix, and the discharge of an adorable and unintelligible groan from the boy beneath her. 

  
  


Starfire recognized what had happened immediately. As promised, she met the event with a vicious stamp of her cunt back down to the root of Corentin’s cock, and an exhalation of pleasure unlike anything she had produced prior.

  
  


“Hyuuughh  ♥♥ I-I knew husband would treat me fairly!” she cooed. “T-There’s so much semen splattering out inside me~! Y-You’re going to fatten my insides with it just like I requested, a-aren’t you?”

  
  


“G-Getting inseminated by husband’s chewable b-babyjuice really is most wonderful~  ♥♥. ”

  
  
  


Needless to say, Corentin did not hear a single word that Starfire uttered. The moment the circular scrubbing of his erection coaxed the load of semen stuffed into his balls into eruption, the world around the youth ceased to matter. His determination, his intent; everything unrelated to the viscous mire that surged up the length of his urethra became superfluous.

  
  


Given the nature of the pleasure that assaulted him, this much was to be expected. To begin with, a bloated thread of relatively-fresh, yet nastily-virile semen was pumped from the root of his cock up through to ejection from the nose of his shaft. Urethra-engorged by molten reproductive fluid throughout, the ascent of this strand again reminded the youth of what Starfire’s frame was capable of bringing out of him. 

  
  


Behind the first, similarly congested forearm-lengths of semen were pressed through to eruption one after another. Each was delivered through a semen-smeared, partly-dilated cervix eager to drink their contents into the half-filled confines of the uterus behind it, and their collision against the loosened baby-button induced a grotesquely-moist *GLORP* comparable to what cake-batter might create if compressed through a too-narrow tube. Inexplicably, each and every one of these noisy collisions were as audible to him as the throbbing of his own heart.

  
  


Consequently, whereas Starfire was likely subjected to the sensation of being filled, Corentin was again made to endure the strenuous, multi-faceted bliss of ‘drainage’. His ears tracked the noise produced as his seed was pressed into her womb, and, no matter how he tried to moderate it, his psyche became fixated on the sensation of her cervix messily sucking semen through his length.

  
  


Being 4-5 years old as I’ve pointed out 3-4 times so far for the purpose of selectively normalizing my nigga Corentin’s responses to certain events in spite of these responses not requiring formal explanations given the underlined premise of the story, these things constituted an experience visceral enough to debilitate his frame.

  
  


The same could not be said of Starfire. Though a fresh eruption of syrup-thick female lubricant burst from her depths the moment Corentin began spewing his semen into her womb, her reaction to the event was far more measured. As most all of the sexual effort exerted between them had come from her, the beginnings of his orgasm found her poised to enjoy the caking of her innards without the feral degeneration that typically accompanied it.

  
  


Of course, this was not to say that what she experienced was paltry by comparison. Following the initial caking of her cervix with an especially-bloated trio of resin quality nut strands, Starfire enjoyed a repetitive ‘refresher course’ as to the quality of Corentin’s semen. Time and time again, mildly-discolored strands of semen prone to congestion in the form of bulbous wads were squeezed through her cervix into her womb. Devoid of the muddiness seen in the loads he released whilst backed up, the jasmine yellow paste-resin still sufficed as a steaming clogging agent for the confines of her uterus. Per shot, the substance applied a semi-solid layer of flesh sludge atop those initially plastered near the roof of her uterus. With time (and a ludicrous volume of nut), these compiled layers were built down into contact with the volume allowed to pool at the organ’s base. By the time Corentin’s release arrived at its halfway point, the entirety of the organ’s natural volume was consumed in accommodation of his semen. Beyond this point, the satisfying bloat that the organ obtained was pushed ever closer to a volleyball-sized, stomach-swelling engorgement with seed.

  
  


Without the filter of euphoria to temper the experience, everything about Corentin’s release became painfully vivid for Starfire. Though well aware of these things as facts, she was made to recall the obese hyperactivity of Corentin’s sperm cells, and the gut-wrenching excess of semen that his body was capable of producing. Faced with these sensations at their most visceral, her familiarity with them meant nothing. All throughout the boy’s release, the wriggling of sperm against her uterine lining and the progressive thinning of this lining by the organ’s inflation with seed subjected her to a sensation of masculine invasion on par with the invasion of one of her ovum. If not to the crippling extent that she usually endured, she again found her mouth busied with the production of unintelligible coos, and her hips consumed in the completion of swivels meant to assist in her cunt’s wringing her suitor’s member.

  
  


Nothing further befell her, however. Not long after the fattening of her uterus left her as appearing ‘pregnant’ with a modest beach ball of semen, the ebbing of Corentin’s orgasm spared her from subjection to additional stimuli. Senses freed from their preoccupation with her innards, she quickly found herself with the wherewithal to both think and act on the aftermath of her husband’s orgasm.

  
  


Not surprisingly, what she produced as a result was as much sweet as it was perverse.

  
  


“A-And that, husband, will teach you not to stand in my way when I decide to do something! I do not like being so mean with you, but you truly left me with no other choice.” Speaking out with a smile on her face, Starfire projected her voice with an energy that betrayed the sweat-peppered state of her visage and the excess of semen sloshing within her midsection. Were one unfamiliar with her propensities, its levity might’ve suggested that her current state was one she was very familiar with.

  
  


“It did allow me to drain out a wealth of your semen, so I suppose it served a purpose all the same. Be that as it may, though,”

  
  


Without altering her rooted position atop Corentin’s crotch, Starfire paused briefly to dip her face back down towards his own. At her favored depth, she playfully pecked at the corners of his agape maw before the reappearance of tension around his mouth allowed her to kiss him naturally.

  
  


Short and sweet, she separated her lips from his face immediately afterwards so as to continue speaking.

  
  


“I must say that I prefer the spousal intimacy of this sort much more than anything else  ♥ .” she finished, warmly.

  
  


Much to her surprise, the lips beneath hers spoke back to her right as she finished speaking.

  
  


“Awugh, I guess w-what I did was...kinda silly, huh? Inseminaying you properly when you’re like that s’way too hard!” audibly winded, Corentin snapped partly upright to reciprocate Starfire’s tired warmth with some of his own. Much like any other child, bouncing back from complete physical exhaustion was no more difficult for him than righting his breathing and responding to the right motivation.

  
  


“I still had fun, though! Are we gonna eat breakfast now?”

  
  


Hearing this, Starfire’s eyes shot completely apart from one another. Whilst pumping her cunt along Corentin’s member, the fact that she had ordered breakfast for the two of them had completely skipped her mind. At the boy’s reminder, she threw her line of sight across the mattress surface to their sides in search of the phone she had discarded in the hope that she hadn’t missed a notification in her stupor.

  
Upon locating the device and taking it into her palm, she found that she hadn’t.

  
  


But not through the device itself.

  
  


* **PIN——PONNN~** *

  
  


Almost on cue to the redirection of her attention, the familiar chime of the house’s doorbell wafted into the bedroom from the crack that Starfire had left in its door. Putting two and two together, she arrived at the conclusion that her latest bout of insemination had finished right on time.

  
  


Popping up and off of Corentin’s frame (but not before spending a second or so cross-eyed as his semi-erect length was peeled from her depths alongside a massive backdraft of semen), Starfire staggered to her feet before eventually transitioning into a short stint of levitation over towards the bedroom door.

  
  


“Y-Yes, we shall!” she affirmed, nervously. “I shall retrieve it from the delivery person immediately! Please stay in bed, husband; I do not wish for you to waste any energy.”

  
  


Content to remain as he was, Corentin nodded his head, and allowed Starfire to depart from the bedroom without another word. Ignorant to what his decision would subject their courier to moments later, her exit saw him flop back first against the same stretch of mattress he had been fucked atop.

  
  


Coddled by its warmth and scent, a childish exhalation passed through his lips moments later.

  
  


“Hm. Bein’ married s’kinda hard, isn’t it?”

-

**THE RESIDENCE OF CORENTIN & STARFIRE— 1:15PM**

“Okay, now I gotta throw away garbage! Throwing away garbage, throwing away garbage…”

“I hope Starfire didn’t move the bin thingy!”

With numerous empty restaurant bags hugged against his stomach, an energetic Corentin completed his descent across his home’s staircase with a final, playful hop. Briefly pensive once planted atop the ground floor, his memories concerning the last time he had thrown away a large amount of garbage—this being several days ago—suggested that the location of the bin would be where it always was (provided Starfire had not moved it to get rid of the garbage herself).

Opting to trust in his instincts, he shrugged his shoulders, and proceeded to his left towards the kitchen. Sock-clad feet gliding across the hardwood floor beneath him and loose, chestnut hair allowed to bounce without restriction from sweat or matting against his forehead, his progression for once appeared similar to one a more ‘normal’ child might produce whilst in the midst of completing a chore. No telltale signs of intercourse could be seen on his frame, nor was he debilitated by the fatigue induced by attempting to sexually satisfy an alien female with a libido woefully ill-suited for her inappropriately-youthful sexual preferences (i.e she fucks children my nigga that’s the joke).

He appeared normal—both in regard to his features and the activity he had busied himself with.

‘Normal’ was not what the boy was at his core, however. Upon discarding the bags hugged to his front into the bin that they belonged to, a shift in his attention again marked him as an abnormal youth in an equally abnormal situation.

Ostensibly by coincidence, but more likely as a result of his immediately recognizing a potential explanation for its presence, Corentin’s eyes caught sight a massive blob of discolored semen splattered out against the floor space opposite the kitchen sink. Pattering over to it just as he had the kitchen’s garbage can, he sharpened his gaze at the substance on arrival at a position just ahead of it.

Within a second or so, the sight of it furrowed his brow with discontentment.

“That’s way too much. If Starfire’s losing that much every time, it’s no wonder she can’t have a baby and stuff.” speaking out with a frown on his face, the passage of this utterance saw the boy’s frustration loosen into something resembling a concerned intent. “But if she knows that it’s happening, how come she doesn’t do anything to stop it? She’s really smart, so it can’t be hard to not let stuff like that happen, right?”

Corentin did not have a reasonable answer for the question he posed, nor did thought on the subject seem likely to provide one to him. Quickly rendered too curious to simply sit still and think, he engaged in behavior to be expected of any other painfully curious child.

In search of answers, he sought out an adult. Exiting the kitchen through the same entrance he had come from, he briskly ascended the flight of stairs separating the ground floor from the second, and upon doing strode straight from the mouth of the staircase back to the bedroom that he shared with Starfire.

Inside, the woman that he sought stood engaged in the same activity she had started on minutes prior. With facial features muddled by frustration and arms crossed under her breasts so as to restrain them, her eyes aimlessly surveyed a number of undersized outfits spread out across the edge of the room's mattress. Attire and…condition unchanged as a result of her indecision, even Corentin’s entrance failed to wrest her attention from the task.

His voice, on the other hand, proved just as effective as always.

“Starfire, how come it’s so hard for you t’get inseminated or whatever?” unaffected by the topic he was speaking on, Corentin produced a question brightened by childish candor the moment he entered the bedroom. “Is it ‘cause the stuff I make always leaks or, or does that not matter? I saw a bunch in the kitchen, so I was thinking that if maybe there was more inside you all th’ time, it might’ve happened already?”

Startled (but not terribly so), the sound of Corentin’s voice immediately drew Starfire’s attention off of her clothing and over towards him. Processing his questions and comments for only a moment, an apologetic sunniness was pushed across her features soon afterwards.

Subsequently, she began to move. Unwilling to use her legs, she floated from her position opposite the left side of the bed up to one opposite Corentin’s back. Here, she wrapped her arms around his frame and pulled his back into contact with her thighs.

Soon afterwards, the two of them were floating through the room just as she had seconds prior. Via a simple invocation of reflex, Starfire drew the two of them up to a height well above that of the bed that they shared throughout an ingress towards it. Once directly above the mattress’ head, she set herself down back first against it and shifted Corentin’s frame to a position directly beside her.

This done, she shook her head towards the youth whilst the bashful smile on her lips inched wider.

“Ahaha. You’ve grown very significantly, haven’t you? I did not ever think that I would hear such a question from you.” she began, nervous warmth dominating her tone. “Since you’ve asked, I do not believe there is very harm in explaining…”

“Explaining what?” while content to be dragged around wherever Starfire desired him to be, Corentin remained innocently fixated on the subject he had broached even now. Enough so, in fact, that the slippage of a hand into his shorts and its contact with the sensitive monstrosity of flesh bundled within it was completely missed by his consciousness.

“I am not certain that you’ll understand completely, but I will explain it this way. To my knowledge, the reproductive cells of Tameranian females are hostile, and sometimes predatory when exposed to the reproductive cells of human males.” Starfire explained, index finger extended in a gesture of instruction. “This means that unless they are sufficiently overwhelmed by them after a period of acclimation, most attempts at insemination will result in their being consumed as nutrients.”

Predictably, most all of this went over Corentin’s head. Nonetheless interested in the conclusion to her explanation, he nodded, and made certain that his eyes did not stray away from his face in search of a cause for the sudden descent of his shorts along his thighs.

“So! Since I cannot be certain when my body will cease its futile resistance against me, I have resolved to both ingest and consume as much of your reproductive fluid as possible! ” she declared. “Losing some along the way is perfectly fine so long as I do not stop altogether, so you’ve nothing to worry about, husband! I am certain to be inseminated by you one day if I continue like this.”

“It is most wonderful that you can express interest in the subject now, though. In fact, now that I have explained this to you…”

Explanation complete, Starfire again turned her attention towards a matter of greater importance. Having successfully unearthed Corentin’s cock from his shorts whilst teasing the bloated spire into a familiar state of taut, flesh-reddening erection, the trailing of her utterance saw her begin snaking inwards towards his crotch from her position at his side. Effortlessly moving up to a kneeling position that set the underside of Corentin’s glans inches below her lips, her arrival here saw her dip downwards so that the warmth of her breath could be projected against the spire’s sex-rawed flesh.

Intimately familiar with the child that she was speaking to, Starfire knew precisely how to preface her requests such that Corentin would never refuse them. His nature was fundamentally accepting of most things that were asked of him, but as a ‘housewife’, she remained of the opinion that a certain amount of appeal was still required of her.

With this in mind, she did not continue speaking immediately. Upon assuming her new position, she first parted her lips to allow the saliva welled within her mouth from her first few inhalations of Corentin’s cockstench to drool out against the nose of his shaft. Specifically, she pressed her lips outwards as if preparing for a kiss, and tipped her skull downwards to allow the clear goo to drizzle out into contact with the nose of his glans. All the while maintaining eye contact with the phallus’ owner, she allowed the substance to flow neatly from between her lips until a stimulated wince appeared across Corentin’s face.

Then and only then did she produce the question she had intended to ask.

“Won’t you please provide me with some dessert to go along with my breakfast  ♥ ? ”

Much to her surprise, the request that Starfire placed was fulfilled with next to no effort on her part. As soon as her question was placed, a pair of tiny hands so rarely stamped against her head threaded fingers into the mussed mop of hair atop it, and with them wrenched her lips down into contact with the cocktip below them. On contact, an upward thrust from Corentin’s hips (as supplemented by the saliva-coated head his glans) skewered the organ between the moist pillows, and plunged several inches of its length into her mouth.

Starfire had no reason to resist Corentin’s aggression. Even if one were to put aside her preference for it, her desire in that moment was to create a pretense for drawing his cock into her throat and sucking another load of semen out of his balls—assuming any of the substance remained to be drawn out of him. As such, she allowed her skull to be manipulated by his ‘strength’, and parted her lips wider and wider so as to facilitate his cock’s depression down her throat.

In doing so, she created an avenue through which the youth exceeded all of her expectations. Instead of stopping at the depression of a fraction of his cock, Corentin followed the completion of his first thrust with the delivery of another. Snaking only a fraction of his meat back out from whence it came, he paused to brace Starfire’s skull more tightly, and afterwards flung his crotch upwards with as much force as he could muster.

Internally, he felt as though he had no other choice. Left with yet another erection as a result of Starfire’s teasing, his body silently demanded that he tread a path of ‘efficiency’ as opposed to impact. His pint-sized musculature was unlikely to persist through another bout of sex, and the grey matter within his skull was liable to endure permanent damage if subjected to yet another milking by Starfire.

Thusly, his instincts took matters into their own hands. With his second thrust, the puffy, sex-reddened bloat of his shaft’s foremost inches were driven through a maddeningly-pleasurable squeeze down Starfire’s throat and into the confines of her esophagus. By the end of their descent, the full length of his shaft—from its root at the hairless expanse of his crotch to the musk-scented bulk of its tip—was successfully plunged between Starfire’s lips.

Consumed within yet another convulsing prison of flesh, the boy’s reproductive organs reacted accordingly. Straight after the completion of Corentin’s hilt, a thread of freshly-produced semen was pushed through another urethra-fattening ascent up the length of his cock. Subsequently ejected across the esophagus-lining ahead of his glans, its departure from the nose of his member contracted his musculature such that his crotch was mashed up against Starfire’s face with even more force.

What followed was best described as the consequence of a pipe’s mouth rupturing in accommodation of the fluid pumped through it. In an instant, the thickness of the semen blurted out of Corentin’s length and the size of the strands that it was released in enjoyed marked increases. One after another, off-white eruptions of nut owning a ‘fresh’ consistency of melted mozzarella as diluted by pudding burst out into contact with Starfire’s digestive tract at a pace that no amount of reflexive peristalsis could hope to match. Her esophagus still attempted to do away with his seed this way—this indicated by the heavy *GLORPS!* that repeatedly sounded out from her neck—but ultimately, the size of the spurts that flooded the tube and the frequency at which they were released ambushed the alien organ’s innards far too effectively to be stopped.

Amidst Starfire’s swallowing, Corentin’s yellow-white semen erupted from her nostrils in a pair of thick blurts. Sinuses completely inundated with the substance, the release of these muted spurts— ejections both wide enough and thick enough to make it appear as though both of her nostrils remained clogged with the substance after the fact—represented her nasal cavity’s best attempt at managing her esophagus’ regurgitation of his excess seed. Shortly after the release of these strands, a mildly chipmunk-like fattening of her cheeks was overturned by a compressed eruption of the same substance from underneath her lips. As the surface area of her lips and cheeks were completely smothered by Corentin’s crotch, this ‘eruption’ was in truth more comparable to an explosion. Denied anything resembling a typical release, pressurized streaks of semen burst up and across the top half of her face one after another. Initially sufficient to simulate a healthy facial, the duration of their release left Starfire’s facial features so vividly caked with grimy semen that their existence was only barely discernible underneath them.

Like this unfolded Starfire’s latest request for semen from her husband. Throughout it, Starfire felt no discomfort at the semen flowing out of her face, nor disappointment at the fact that she had not been allowed to suck the substance out of Corentin as she had desired.

With this, her husband had made yet another wilful contribution to the expansion of their family.

As a wife hopelessly infatuated with her spouse, a better outcome than this, simply didn’t exist.

  
  



	4. Celebrating with Friends and Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Through all of the gross, socially-reprehensible sex she has on a daily basis. Starfire finally becomes pregnant with the child of an ostensible child. Overjoyed by the news, she responds to the event by having even more socially-reprehensible sex, and arranging a family visit with her longtime friend and coworker: Raven.
> 
> You want to know what she and Corentin do at Raven's house? Well, they have particularly-sloppy, semen-draining sex right where she can see it. That's 0-cap bro, on god.
> 
> 'What kind' is pretty alright, though.

  
  


Situated upright opposite the sink of her downstairs washroom, an uncharacteristically-pristine Starfire stared aimlessly at the mirror mounted ahead of her. Features placid and emerald eyes motionless, her gaze was without any of the smiling energy or concerned curiosity that usually dominated her stints in front of a mirror. In their place, a flatness indicative of preoccupation assumed dominance of her features. 

If uncharacteristic, her state was not exactly novel. Being a married young woman almost 2 years into a very unique form of cohabitation, periods of worried thought spent mentally assessing herself were far from abnormal—alien heritage or no. Further, her appearance at that moment was almost guaranteed to trigger introspection. Having attempted to dress herself ‘prettily’ for an outing with her husband planned weeks prior, stopping to assess whether or not she had accomplished this was natural. In doing so, she was bound to make herself wonder about her performance as a ‘proper member of society’, whether or not her spouse truly found her appearance appealing, and scores of other things concerned with her ‘self’.

Were Starfire’s preoccupation actually mental in nature, explaining its root this way would have come naturally to anyone familiar with her.

However, it wasn’t. Nearly a minute into her wordless stare at the mirror, a sudden lurch of her frame towards the sink and a preparative bracing of her palms against its rims revealed it as something else entirely—

Something entirely physical.

“Blllleuuhhhh…”

The moment she finished dipping her torso towards the sink, contractions within Starfire’s stomach drove her skull further downwards. Not a second later, her lips were drawn into a jagged pursing before ultimately slipping apart to accommodate a sudden fit of vomiting. Cognizant enough of her state to aim her mouth properly throughout, she adhered to her innards’ fussy urgings and allowed her body to purge itself of her stomach contents until the nagging discomfort that dogged her disappeared. 

As only she could, Starfire did not frame the seconds-long ordeal as something negative. To an extent, the state of her stomach contributed to this. As its contents contained a decent volume of semen and very little else, passing it was by no means a new experience for her. Past this, her experience with human sexual practices had almost completely desensitized her to vomiting in the first place. The times wherein she had lost her semen-based stomach contents draining Corentin’s cock were innumerable; draining them into a sink was no different than a change of pace for her.

Something else buoyed her perspective as well. After several short wretches quieted to ensure that she didn’t alert her suitor to her condition, Starfire wiped off her mouth, and finally raised her skull back into a dead-on stare with the mirror ahead of her.

At this, the reason for her levity spread an airy smile across her lips, and pushed words of celebration out of her mouth.

“Oh! I’m becoming most proficient at predicting my body’s condition!” she chirped, happily. “I was unable to read my body’s signals the last few times, but this time, I avoided making any sort of mess!”

“ **Pregnancy is a truly challenging ordeal** ! I cannot allow myself to be complacent moving forward, but I can at the very least take some comfort in my improvement.” she continued, features tightening into the projection of a pouty confidence. “Nihi~. Friend Raven should be impressed, too! She probably won’t be able to notice my condition until I reveal the news to her personally.”

Elated by the contents of her utterances, Starfire soon found herself with enough energy to push herself off of the sink and resume standing upright. Keeping her eyes trained on the mirror throughout, she went over the state of her body one final time before pumping her fists to either side of her massive bust and steeling her features. 

Convinced of her readiness, she puffed out a final burst of motivation towards herself in a bid at speeding her departure along.

“Your preparation for this outing is sufficient, so do not waste any more time. Friend Raven is expecting you in less than hour, and you shall not be doing any flying today because of your condition!” she continued. 

“Now, go and enjoy a nice outing with your husband!”

Directions stated, Starfire turned on her heels and departed from the bathroom without another word. Unrecognizable as the affectless woman who had persisted at the sink minutes prior, her gait upon exiting matched its state when first she had entered.

Succinctly, it was that of an energetic young woman—one primed by purpose, and pleasant anticipation for the day that was to come.

-

**VACATIONS**

Several weeks after her latest abdication from her duties as a Teen Titan, the years-long struggle that Starfire engaged in upon meeting Corentin bore fruit in the most literal sense of the word. 

She became pregnant. Initially want to reduce her morning time nausea to the anxiety that she sometimes felt whilst away from her husband, the duration of her condition and the predictable timing of its flareups led her to make use of one of the innumerable pregnancy tests she had stockpiled in anticipation of her success. Excitable by nature, her production of a single positive test led her to produce several others with the intention of accounting for her failing to administer it correctly. Each reaped the same result, and in turn led her to produce another with far more sweet-natured energy until she became certain of their readings herself.

Overjoyed in an extremely juvenile sense of the word, holding back her tears in the moment required almost all of the willpower she had in her. Having already absconded from her duties to perform the tests, she collected a handful of them, and instead put her energy into rushing to Corentin’s school and forcibly extracting him from it to deliver the news to him.

If more aware at 4 ½ than he had been at 3, Corentin’s understanding of the reveal that Starfire produced when they returned home was loose at best. Happy solely for the fact that Starfire had finally obtained the thing that she had sought for so long, he accepted the concept of fatherhood as something with far less ‘weight’ than it held in reality.

A week later, he was motivated to shift his perspective in an even more positive direction. Several weeks before the planned end for the school year, it was decided between the two of them that his summer vacation would begin early. Additionally (as if this were not enough to make any child appreciative of an event), every day from the beginning of his vacation onward was made a broad ‘event’ so exhaustingly enjoyable that his mind had trouble differentiating them. Owed to the satisfaction of her internal biology and the surge of hormones and endorphins that came with it, Starfire made a point out of performing her duties as a wife with an abnormal amount of energy and consistency.

If desperate hunger was the defining facet of her efforts beforehand, dedicated hunger was its incumbent. While sometimes want to lose herself to the pleasure that she endured or to allow Corentin free reign in how he relieved herself with his body, her approach throughout the initial days of their time together served as clear reminders for her inhuman stamina and disposition. Shameless and slovenly, she repeatedly ‘refreshed’ him as to her capacity for milking disgusting quantities of semen from his body with a smile on her face and adoration in her heart.

Throughout, she did not lose sight of what was to come. Privy to the tolls that pregnancy would incur on her body, she made arrangements for an extended leave of absence at Titan’s Tower, and within the same hour contacted the woman partly responsible for the fulfillment that she enjoyed: her friend Raven.

With her newfound understanding of technology, speaking with her face to face could have been as simple as simply calling her. Far too proud of her accomplishment to convey it through a medium, Starfire instead arranged to visit her alongside Corentin at her earliest convenience under the guise of a long overdue meeting between friends. Aided by Raven having taken her own leave of absence months prior, the date of the event was slated to fall on a sunny weekday afternoon a week from their contacting one another.

Despite spending every day leading up to the outing engaging in the same debauched, socially-reprehensible sex she had engaged in prior, the day of found Starfire at her very best. After a morning spent messily siphoning a pair of loads from Corentin’s balls after breakfast, she showered, and squeezed her frame into a skintight black tanktop-jumpsuit cut just below the peaks of her thighs and devoid of sleeves.

In this case, ‘squeezed’ was not so much a colorful means of describing her ordeal as it was a means of properly illustrating it. In the year(s) that had passed since her body had obtained its fabric swelling thickness, Starfire had continued to base her clothing choices on what other young women deemed to be appealing, and what she herself deemed to be comfortable.

In the midst of an early summer that threatened to overheat her hormonal frame if she dressed incorrectly, she selected a compromise between form and fashion. Comprised of a breathable material whose bust portion dutifully encapsulated her F-cup breasts and their meaty, watermelon-sloped protrusion away from her chest (this at the cost of displaying a wealth of sweaty orange cleavage to the open air at all times), the jumpsuit that she donned kept her upper body appearing ‘decent’ without locking in too much heat. At the same time, however, its lack of sleeves and half-sized shoulder straps resulted in her fattened breasts becoming fabric-gloved centerpieces for her torso. Appearing as wobbly, fat-riddled sacs made perkier by her youth and adorned by swollen, lowly-set cylinders of nipple flesh at their centers, their coverage somehow managed to exude the same sort of allure that they might’ve projected whilst naked.

As proved the case with all of her one-piece outfits, the same effect was imposed on her hips, midsection, and buttocks. While yet to acquire the additional flesh and width that they’d require for her pregnancy, the state of her hips and midsection were teased through the fabric that covered them in a manner too appealing to ignore. Visible at the outer fringes of her hips were the softened bow-peaks that defined their width, and the beginnings of the opposing sluices dug from the regions (i.e., the peak of her hips downwards bro I know it’s hard to visualize just stay with a nigga) towards her crotch. Above the obtuse ‘V’ made by their descent, a mildly pudgy midsection squishy to the touch, yet equipped with the slightest outline of muscular indentations sat with fabric suckled atop it. No less appealing than the washboard abdominals she had once maintained, the sight of them made it easy enough to discern that she was still a ‘heroine’ of some sort.

Comparatively, the sight of her from behind suggested the contrary. Despite completely gloving her buttocks and two inches of thigh flesh below the end of her crotch, the amount of fat that her rear had acquired seemed uncharacteristic of a superheroine. Neither cheek was so large as to seem out of place attached to her frame, but the doughy roundness that they had acquired and the extent to which they filled in the fabric cloving them (ex. mushy, overstuffed globes want to swallow hands on contact and bounce with the slightest movement) seemed far more perverted than they ought’ve been. 

While still muscular in that they maintained the slightest amount of tautness, her thighs were the same—reasonable relative to the rest of her frame, but visibly pudgy and more alluring for it.

Thinking nothing of her appearance save for the fact that she was adhering to human customs, Starfire completed her outfit with a pair of high-ankle sneakers and a hip-situated purse secured by a fannypack-strap. 

Finally, in the wake of a brief stop within the bathroom to deal with nausea brought on by her pregnancy, she departed with Corentin on foot—

Partly for the sake of safety, and partly as a result of her newfound preference for walking to all of her destinations hand in hand with her husband.

-

**RAVEN’S HOME—INTERIOR**

On arrival at Raven’s home, Corentin and Starfire were assaulted by two different kinds of anxiety.

Starfire’s was rooted in confliction. When met by her friend at the front door, she began to worry that the reason for her visit was entirely selfish. At the same time, she could not help but feel a heightened sense of excitement about what was to come. As neither feeling could overwhelm the other, the time that she spent exchanging pleasantries with Raven at the door was dominated by half-hearted and decidedly awkward behavior from her—even by her own lofty standards.

Corentin was simply too confused to feel comfortable. Vaguely aware of the fact that Starfire had friends, the fact that the one he was met with was so utterly contrary to Starfire left him without a template to guide his behavior. A typical child in at least one aspect of social interaction, he opted to remain silent throughout their time at the door, and remained as such when the group transitioned into the living room.

Upon arrival here, the anxiety that stymied the pair was alleviated by natural causes. The deeper that Starfire went into her explanation for their visit was the more comfortable that they became—albeit for entirely different reasons. By the time Starfire arrived at the story’s climax, the two of them were indistinguishable from their usual selves. 

Incidentally, this point in time just so happened to coincide with a great deal of anxiety assaulting Raven.

“…Now that I am thinking back on it, buying so many was probably a very strange thing to do. I did not bring a bag with me, and the man with the title of ‘Store Manager’ was not able to provide me with one before I left.” Starfire continued, eyes set into a reminiscent angled curl within their sockets.

“As a result, I was required to leave the store with all of them in hand. I believe some may’ve fallen as I flew—it was a very worrisome experience! I could not stop imagining what might happen if I hit someone with one by accident, but in this instance, my technical ability prevented any of the ‘accidents’ from taking place.”

“Anyway, all of this brings us to the wondrous new I have come here to bring: “

“I am the ‘with child’, Friend Raven! Are you not surprised?”

“My body has set me several months behind you, but that is of no consequence! From now on, we will be able to approach motherhood together and do the play dates and other things!”

“I am truly happier now than I can recall being in a very long time  ♥ .”

Provided with her first ‘in’ with which to participate in the conversation that Starfire had started, Raven responded with a roll of her eyes, and a thin exhalation meant to convey disinterest. 

These were produced entirely by way of reflex. Having sat down with Starfire convinced that her news was something mundane, her body sat primed to produce these responses as soon as she finished speaking. As a result of the weight of their contents and everything included alongside them, the beginnings of a smirk were pinched at the corners of her lips, and the tightness with which she held her own breastfeeding infant against her chest increased.

Shortly, Starfire had guessed correctly. No part of her displayed it explicitly, but Raven had been pushed into a state of happiness and excitement that she rarely ever endured.

With this, however, came a certain amount of anxiety. Induced largely from the behavior that Starfire slipped into throughout her address, Raven eventually attempted to diffuse it via an address of her own—

One that she hoped would be ‘on-brand’ enough to remind Starfire of where she was and what she was doing.

“…Why not just tell me that over the phone? You know that video calling exists, don’t you?” she began, listlessly. “I can’t really say that I’m surprised. It was bound to happen eventually; the only question was when.”

“I’m happy for you, though. Really, I am.” she added. “Not happy enough to do any of that shit you just described, obviously, but you know. Sort of happy.”

“That said…”

Trailing her eyes downward against her better judgement, Raven furrowed her brow, and ultimately continued speaking despite knowing that she was unlikely to get a response from Starfire.

“Why are you doing that in front of me, exactly? And why now?”

As Raven spoke, Starfire sat in the midst of shamelessly plumbing the middle and ring finger of her right hand in and out of the back of her throat to noisy and gratuitously messy effect. Since peeling her glossed lips apart and jamming the digits all the way down her throat, every curled plunge of her hand wrenched a modest expulsion of dense, glue-thick slop out across the entirety of her hand.

By itself, the display was merely gross and confusing. However, shortly before it, Starfire had taken the time to align Corentin’s lap across her own (this whilst his head laid atop the arm rest at the other end of the sofa), and afterwards began stroking his cock into a state of portly and menacing erection with her left hand. 

Through this, all of the sludge-thick slop and mucus she fingered out of herself found a ‘purpose’ atop his cock. Rather than allowing the murky sludge to drain out across her hand uninhibited, Starfire spewed every drop out across the nose of Corentin’s member and purposed it as lubricant for an increasingly slimy (and noisy) stroking of its bloat.

How she went about this was far from haphazard. Whilst focusing her gaze on Raven, she firmly curled her wrist through hooked stabs that plunged her fingers down her throat. Required to drive the digits fairly deep into her gullet to elicit a response, she took to hooking the tips of her fingers at the end of each descent to ensure that a particular button of squishy esophagus lining was irritated enough to cause her to retch. In possession of a digestive tract willing to discharge a soupy, resin-like sludge ideal for lubricating her husband’s oversized member, her efforts resulted in muted bursts of the substance surging into her oral cavity for every few plunge-wriggles of her fingers.

When her mouth was full lube, she wrenched her fingers from it and dipped her skull downwards. Delivering her lips into a light kiss against the unwashed bloat of Corentin’s glans, she subsequently parted them to allow her payload to messily spill out onto the overfucked flesh in the form several blubbery sheets.

Then, she retreated. Wasting no time from delivery to departure, the end of her releases saw her re-envelope Corentin’s freshly mire-slogged cocktip within her left palm, and reinsert her right hand’s fingers into their whorish plumbing of her throat. Deaf to the innumerable *GLUK-GLRSHL-GLURCKL-SCLSH* noises produced by her fingers and the vibrantly sexual *GLORPS!* and *SCHLPS!* created by her tip-focused handjob, she even managed to refocus her gaze on Raven after the fact. Fresh rivulets of mucus were drawn into descent from her nostril and thin tears were dragged through arced descents from her eyes, but for all intents and purposes, her focus remained.

Had she been caught without it, responding to the question that her longtime companion had posed was likely to have required more effort from her. Spared such straits, she unholstered her slop-webbed fingers from her throat ahead of schedule and spoke out as thought the subject Raven had raised was no more significant than the weather—

All while a warm smile took shape at her mess-plastered lips.

“Oh! Is this not something that fellow wives can do around one another?” she asked, voice choked slightly by the volume of slop and salivation that persisted within her throat. “When I noticed you feeding your daughter, I thought I was missing out on another of the ‘social norms’ I have been trying to learn! Though I suppose providing sustenance to a child is somewhat different from satiating one’s husband…”

While speaking, Starfire compensated for her inability to spew additional mire onto Corentin’s cock by sharpening her stroking metronome into something that appeared as painstaking as it was masturbatory. At the cost of some of the phallus-draining pressure she had applied when allowed to fully devote herself to the activity, she accelerated her stroking to the point at which wads of precum-infused lubrication were messily wrung from off of the nose of his shaft for each stroke that she produced. 

As each one of these strokes began at the base of his reddened glans, the production of these globs was tied to the completion of her palm’s ascents. Though executed in the blink of an eye, each smeared enough lubrication up to the tip of his cock to see the creases of her fingers choked with the substance, and the meagre gap between her curled thumb and index finger utterly flooded with throatslop. Disallowed settlement by the aggression and speed of her ministrations, wads from these miniature pools splattered out and away from the nose of Corentin’s cock right before the descent of her palm could ‘reapply’ them to his glans’ twitching bloat.

Not surprisingly, Starfire did not display any interest in mitigating these happenings as she spoke. Beyond the beginning of her first utterance, she continued speaking without passing so much as a glance at what her stroking metronome was causing—much to Raven’s chagrin.

“I have learned much about the improper public behavior since we last saw one another, Friend Raven. I did not hear anything about this being improper, but if it is, I will avoid doing it in the future...” gracious in the face of correction, Starfire contradicted her behavior with a strangely earnest promise for future discretion.

The keyword in this was ‘future’. In the wake of its delivery, she shifted her line of sight from Raven back towards Corentin’s head position at the other side of the couch. Here, she continued her address in a manner that very nearly cut Raven out of their shared conversation.

“As a wife, I must finish what I started for now, though. It would be  **_most_ ** unkind of me if I provided Corentin with such a disgustingly messy handjob without properly dragging a load of his stinking babyjuice out  ♥ .” she stated, sweetly. “As my husband and the father of my child, it is my duty as a Tameranian Princess to ensure that I take as much of his semen into my body into a daily basis as possible. It is even more important that I do this in a way that he enjoys—which is why I have been abusing my  **drooling throatpussy** to make sure that I produce as much gluey saliva as possible.”

“As another married woman, you can understand where I’m coming from, can you not?”

In the face of Starfire’s explanation, Raven was left without a means of retort for far longer than she was comfortable with.

To a point, she understood precisely where Starfire was coming from. Both prior to and after her pregnancy, the number of allowances she had provided to her own juvenile suitor bordered on the obscene. Past this, the fussy willingness with which she had conferred them was rarely affected by the time or place that they were requested of her. Flatly, feigning as if she held the moral high ground and complaining about Starfire’s actions was as unfair to Starfire as it was to herself.

Nevertheless, Raven was herself first and foremost. Averse to her heart’s response (this being: “I know exactly what you mean.”), she produced another that conveyed the same meaning whilst allowing her to save face.

Per usual, though, her delivery let slip all of her actual feelings on the subject.

“…Again, no idea what you’re talking about. I-It’s true that I do the same sort of garbage that you’re doing sometimes, but I certainly don’t go to someone else’s house to do it in front of them.” exhaling listlessly, Raven ‘compounded’ her rejection of Starfire’s suggestion with a shift towards her friend’s seated position atop the couch. Stopping herself once nearly side-by-side with Starfire’s frame, the continuation of her address resulted in her dragging short breaths of heavy, sex-scented air directly into her nostrils.

If the disapproving tone of her utterances was to be believed, the move itself was illogical. Conversely, if one viewed her tone as subterfuge for more positive feelings on the subject, it made perfect sense:

Much like anyone other hormone-riddled mother, Raven derived dangerous amounts of pleasure from the sights and sounds of sex that Starfire was creating with Corentin’s cock.

“B-But whatever—I guess I get it.” she continued. “If you absolutely have to, you can finish. You probably wouldn’t stop if I asked you, anyway.”

“That said, I need you to not go around telling people that we both do things like this like it’s normal. I didn’t recommend you to that orphanage back then for you to create gross rumors about what we do around the city. I did it so that you’d finally shut up about having a kid, so if nothing else, you owe me this much, got it?”

“…”

“Starfire?”

“…Nevermind.”

Want to ramble listlessly about the past whilst consumed by arousal, Raven did not realize that she had been tuned out by Starfire until increases in the sexual noise she was creating suggested that she was still active. Eyes thus far taken up in observation of the slop-drenched state of Corentin’s cocktip and the wriggling vascularity that defined it from this point downwards, her recognition of her state urged her to shift her gaze up towards Starfire in search of an explanation.

So did she produce this shift was she made to exhale in indifference. In what few seconds she had spent staring, Starfire had abandoned the stroking metronome applied by her left hand to prop up Corentin’s upper back slightly. 

Her doing so was not a matter of whim, but of necessity. Through it, Starfire found the space to mush her sex-mired lips down into an affectionate kiss against Corentin’s lips. Qualitatively one-sided, Raven’s late observation of the kiss did not make it any less impactful. For a handful of seconds after catching sight of the act, Starfire hungrily invaded the depths of his mouth with her tongue and drank down the saliva that he produced as though her life depended on it.

Yet again, satisfaction coincided with retreat from her. Brandishing her regurgitation-slogged right hand whilst returning her seated position to the upright state that set her lips inches above Corentin’s cock, she thereafter poised herself for what appeared to be a second round of sexual effort.

More or less aware of what was to come, Raven took this as a cue to stop thinking about what she was looking at. Adopting the role of a spectator, she focused herself on the elating throb that had appeared at her crotch, and trained her senses on Starfire’s frame.

In doing so, the pleasure that she derived from watching her friend’s actions was amplified so significantly that silence became her only means of dealing with it.

“…Phuuu  ♥ . I hope that makes up for the fact that we cannot continue much longer, Corentin. I’d love nothing more than to continue dragging my  **slimy throatjuice** against your cock until you give me lots and lots of squirmy cockjuice to gargle, but apparently, doing so is most distasteful in the presence of friends…”

“Friend Raven is much nicer than most people, though! I am certain that she won’t mind, so you’re welcome to splatter out as much seed as you need to feel comfortable. My only goal as the mother of your child is to make sure that I am responsible for slurping every stinking drop out of you—”

“Even if that means becoming disgusting myself  ♥ .”

By themselves, the words of encouragement that Starfire produced were potent sources of sexual pleasure. Despite their being uttered in a voice dominated by an airy, almost ignorant sweetness, their contents and the stress placed on them firmly conveyed her desire to perform as an ideal semen-siphon. 

Were Corentin not used to hearing her express such saccharine degeneracy, the debilitation it had introduced into his mind was guaranteed to have worsened. Per usual, though, words were not the only form of stimuli that the boy had to contend with. While speaking, Starfire resumed the tip-focused stroking of his member with her right hand—a limb made utterly slovenly by its time spent within her gullet. As soon as its lukewarm embrace was wrapped around the near-fist-wide bloat of his glans, a twinge of stimulation akin to what he enjoyed each time he plunged himself into one of her holes thundered from the nose of his erection down to the root of his spine.

Before his mind could acclimate to the stinging impression, Starfire began flicking her wrist upward and downward with the same seamless aggression she had applied with her left. Again exchanging the suffocation of his length for a speedy, infuriatingly pleasant stroke-fucking of his meat, familiar squelching noises wrought from the precum threaded out of his member filled the living room moments later.

*SCHLK-SCHLK-SCHKL-SCHLK* 

*SCHLK-GRLSH-SCHKL-PLORP*

Subjected to fresh, load-fattening stimuli from a number of different sources, sitting still throughout his handjob became too significant a task for Corentin to manage. As another child might’ve, he eventually abandoned his usual pattern of endurance for an upward surge of his torso, and a pointless training of his gaze up at Starfire’s face.

This, too, provided him with pleasure. By the time he mustered up the energy required for his surge, Starfire had resumed finger-fucking her throat in search of additional lubrication for her handjob. As if having predicted that he would become desperate and aggressive as a result of her ministrations, the first plunge of her fingers that he laid eyes on drew a smooth expulsion of slimy throatsyrup across the length of her hand and the beginning of her wrist. Produced in cloudy spurts perfect for conveying the pressure backing their release, the happening was emblematic of the foremost ‘reality’ concerned with Starfire’s finger-fucking:

Of her own volition, Starfire was fucking stomach lubrication out of herself with the sole intention stimulating his cock with it.

On some level privy to this reality, its reiteration turned Corentin’s knee-jerk reaction into a full-on spasm. Only moments after Starfire drizzled her mouth’s latest payload onto the nose of his cock—this coming whilst the feverish stroking of her left hand continued unhindered—his capacity for stimulation failed him. Contracting muscles within his legs left languid by satisfaction, he forced himself up to a flat-footed stance to the left of Starfire’s lap. Allowed to wrench his member from her grasp by virtue of an ‘incidental’ loosening of her grasp at the beginning of his surge, he subsequently assumed control of his length by bracing its mess-caked root with his left hand.

What followed defined him as no less abnormal than his spouse. In possession of sexual experience that dated back to a point in time that escaped his loosely-maintained memories, he began stroking the base of his member by way of reflex. At the same time, he reached out with his right hand and collected a handful of the bright-red hair near the front of Starfire’s skull. Dragging her inwards after the fact (and met without a moment’s resistance throughout), he aligned her mouth with the nose of his erection just in time for his stroking to expel a hearty blurt of precum against the middle of her face.

Seemingly galvanized by its release, Corentin found his voice as soon as the substance was welled into the ‘pocket’ above Starfire’s left cheek.

“O-Okayy…open wide, Starfire.” he started, voice made delirious by overstimulation. “I-I’m gonna blast lots of babyjuice into your mouth! You gotta swallow it all, ‘kay?”

Situated to respond to Corentin’s request well before he produced it, Starfire immediately made herself as appealing a target as possible. Beginning by parting her lips slowly enough to erect several pillars of throatslop within her mouth, then transitioning into an outstretching of her tongue that put its alien length and slop-mired state on full display, she spared herself nothing in the way of exposure. Per the desires of her seeded womb, she even kept her eyes open in anticipation of the first discharge of cum that’d leave her husband’s cocktip.

Through this preparation, the beginning of the boy’s orgasm very nearly pushed her into cumming herself. Behind the release of a cute grunt from his throat and a twitchy thrust of his hips, a monstrous eruption of off-white cockjuice thickened to a state comparable to a lumpy, sludge-quality batter burst from the tip of his cock straight into the waiting confines of her mouth.

Unlike the ‘norm’ for his releases, the sheer size of his orgasm was set on full display from this point onward. Influenced by the girth of his length and the pliancy of his urethra, the first flourish of yellow-white seed appeared as though it had been funneled through an abnormally-wide frosting tube. As well, the volume that it contained suggested that a dense pipe of semen had ruptured somewhere near his urethra’s peak. Meaty enough to obscure the entirety of Starfire’s tongue upon delivery into her mouth (this in turn resulting in the inundation of her oral cavity’s floor), the sight of it was such that a layman would be led to wonder how so much rancid seed could be funneled through one oversized length.

Second by second, Corentin’s flesh hose produced flourishes precisely like this over and over again. Straight after the end of his first unruly discharge, another loaded with the same volume of overfed swimmers was blasted into Starfire’s waiting mouth. Set to benefit from the foundation created by its predecessor, its contents seamlessly exacerbated the lurid conditions within her mouth and at the back of her throat. Whereas specs of pink flesh were visible prior to its ejection, the end of the *GLORP~!*-backed burst rendered the entirety of Starfire’s lower jaw as a pit of congested semen. Tongue, teeth, and throat completely obscured underneath a semi-solid pond of sludge, her mouth’s state suggested that the addition of a single drop of semen into it after the fact would send copious rivulets of the substance draining out over the edge of her lower lip.

Practiced in the art of taking obscenely-large threads of semen into her mouth, Starfire took steps to avoid losing a single drop of Corentin’s semen to her mouth’s limitations. Recognizing the conditions within her mouth as they took shape, she squeezed her lips shut and redistributed the squirmy mire between the ‘pockets’ offered by her cheeks. Both fattened to a state of telling chubbiness as a result, the measure conveyed precisely how close her mouth had come to overflowing (through the portly fullness her cheeks acquired) whilst at the same time ensuring that this did not come to pass.

To compensate for the failings of her first canvas, Starfire tipped her skull upwards to offer her facial features as a second. Set just in time for Corentin’s third outflow of semen to drape a nasty sheet-blotch of the substance from the peak of her right eye down through a diagonal arc that ended at the edge of her right lip, the inundation of her mouth was thereafter replaced by an inundation of her facial features. In the wake of this layered drenching, similarly massive expulsions of semen were haphazardly spread across her face such that her features were progressively obscured underneath it.

Unlike the compilations that took place in her mouth, these were without a basin to restrain them. Consequentially, the heavy, clot-prone texture of the substance was visible in every smear that her facial features acquired. Each no less than a fifth of the width of a palm, their jasmine yellow coloration and their sometimes platted, sometimes clotted distribution quickly reduced Starfire’s face into yet another expression of artistic degeneracy.

Whereas most women would have regarded this circumstance as cloying and excessive, Starfire basked in the seconds that she spent taking bursts of semen against her face. In response to the fifth, an orgasmic shudder suppressed by her sense of commitment rippled through her frame, and tempted her smothered cuntlips into an expulsion of cuntsyrup heavy enough to visibly soak the crotch of her jumpsuit. Some seconds later, the 7 th smothered her opened eyes underneath a volume of wriggling jizz potent enough for her reflexes to shut them lest the sting distract her from her purpose. Assaulted equally by sexual stimulation and satisfaction wrought from the size of Corentin’s release, the progression of her husband’s release left her wanting for nothing.

In spite of this, she rejected complacency. With a mind muddled by orgasmic bliss and senses consumed by the stench, texture, and weight of her husband’s semen, Starfire prioritized making a spectacle of herself over all else.

Past the midway point of Corentin’s release, she applied her cheeks, tongue, and lips to a closed-lip ‘blending’ of the semen trapped within her mouth. As one might rinse their mouth with water or mouth wash, she used oxygen drawn in from her nose to swish and swirl the semi-solid mud within her mouth solely for the sake of Corentin’s stimulation.

*SCHLRSH-SCHLSH-SLRSCH*

*PLORSH-SCHLRLSH-PLORSH-PLORSH*

So went the nauseating symphonies produced as her cheeks were repeatedly thinned and fattened by her efforts. Noisy enough to drown out the soft *PLORPS* and *PLATS* created by the coverage of her features, Starfire all but guaranteed that her tiny suitor would attend to some part of her display.

Convinced of her success, she did not invest any energy into wondering whether or not her display was effective. Instead, she applied the remainder of her mental energy into verbally willing Corentin’s release in the direction that she desired—

Not physically, but mentally.

“How wonderful  ♥ ! Corentin has become truly proficient at drenching my face with his cock juice as though it is one of his possessions!” she thought to herself. “I realize you cannot hear me, but please continue squeezing out as much semen as you can. It makes me very happy to know that I can tempt you into doing so as your wife.”

“Please cake my pores with it  ♥ . I am certain you can hear just how  **thick** and  **foul** the sludge you spewed into my mouth is. Even if I didn’t wish to stir it around like this, it would be impossible for me to ingest without thinning it first.”

“That same semen is what you are plastering across my face. You are marking me with the same stinking, squirming babyjuice that you used to impregnate me, so my hope is that I’ve earned the right to every drop of it.”

“I wish only to be marked with scent right where my best friend can see me  ♥ . To that end, I will continue presenting myself as the ‘disgusting semen whore’ whose behavior you seem to adore so much for as long as I can.”

“Just as always  ♥ .”

Fundamentally sensible in spite of her strange predilections, Starfire was not the sort of young woman air-headed enough to apply herself to pointless activity. 

In another manner of speaking, a part of her knew that she did not have to ‘hope’ that Corentin would provide her with what she desired. As the seconds of his release dragged on and the weight of the sludge strands he streaked across her features grew heavier, it became increasingly apparent that the boy did not intend on allowing his release to end before he was satisfied. 

When at last these expulsions began to thin into reasonable dollops, Starfire confidently presumed that her work was done. Halting her still-active mouth washing session, she shifted her efforts towards hurriedly gulping significant fractions of her mouth’s lukewarm contents down into her stomach in preparation for another loving address.

In this act was the first and last error she made concerning Corentin’s satiation. Without the ability to see the boy’s face or even assess the state of his cock, Starfire all-too-readily overlooked an unfortunate reality concerned with her suitor’s age:

For as earnestly as Corentin might  _ intend _ something, following through with it was not always something that he was capable of.

“Huuu…” 

“I think that’s…most of it?” beginning in a tone of voice withered, yet far more stable than the one he had produced minutes prior, a sweaty, peach-faced Corentin spoke out to end the domination of the living room’s airspace by sexual noise.

“I’m sorry, Starfire. I don’t think I’m totally empty, but I don’t think it’s your fault! Maybe I’m just too used to the stuff we do at home, or somethin’.” he continued. “I’m okay, though—you don’t have to do any more. Sorry about doing this stuff in your house, Ms. Raven!”

Calm in the face of failure—particularly failures that concerned her husband—the news that Corentin had not managed to completely empty his balls did not result in sudden action from Starfire. Effectively blind, her first act was a careful sweeping of bulbous jizz sheets layered atop her eyes off to their corners. Once more or less certain that the substance would not significantly impede her sight, she opened her eyes and confirmed Corentin’s situation for herself.

In the blink of an eye, she found herself set opposite a cock only slightly less rigid than she recalled it being prior to the beginning of Corentin’s release. With this, she was left with no other choice but to accept Corentin’s word as the truth; a relatively simple task given how little she had doubted him in the first place.

Past her realization, she set her sights on a potential solution—

But not without first devoting a fraction of her attention onto Corentin.

“Awh  ♥ . Fear not, Corentin—that’s not something you need to apologize for!” she chirped. “You satisfied me more than I am comfortable admitting in the presence of a friend! If anything, I should be apologizing to you for not approaching my duties correctly.”

“As your wife, I  **cannot** allow this situation to persist. I would like more than anything to adhere to your request, but it would insult both you and the child inside me if I did not drain you properly.” tone adopting a worrisome sternness, Starfire somehow managed to keep this shift from affecting her facial features as she spoke.

“I’ve already a solution in mind, so please bear with me for a few more moments!”

Uninterested in whatever attempts Corentin intended to make at rebuttal, Starfire punctuated her declaration with action. Shooting upright off of the couch, she took a single brisk step to her right and seated herself directly behind the only other young woman within the room.

In position, she set a single hand against her back, and another against the back of her skull.

Why she did this should have been conveyed through the act’s timing. Tragically, both gestures found Raven in a state unconducive for coherent thought, or even a proper tracking of the sequence of events she had observed.

As such, she invested precious time into inquiring about them.

“…W-Wait, when did you move, Starfire?” Raven asked, features bent back behind her. “And why am I so close to Corentin again? Didn’t you say you were just going to finish up with him or something?”

In sequence, these words warmed Starfire’s smile further, and tightened her grasp on the back of Raven’s head past the point of no return.

Appropriately, Starfire made the reason for these changes painfully apparent.

“I am, Friend Raven…”

“You’re simply helping me  ♥ .”

Brandishing a familiar indifference in the face of the stammered retort that Raven produced, Starfire put her newfound position to use. Taking advantage of the parting of Raven’s lips, she forcibly plunged her skull inwards along a horizontal path that perfectly bisected the glossed pillows along the semi-erect bloat of Corentin’s cock. Deepening the invasion of her throat over the course of a second or so, the end of her disgustingly-smooth depression came when Raven’s lips (and face) were smothered against the sex-mired surface of Corentin’s crotch. 

On perception of the sodden *GLORSH~* that this produced, she her actions acquired further intensity. With her left hand, she reeled Raven’s twitching skull back up along her suitor’s shaft until her lips returned to a dismayed suckle at its tip. With her right, she ‘braced’ Raven’s back with enough strength to convey a message to her:

Until she saw fit, moving out of her current position would not be tolerated.

Predictably, Starfire devoted far more attention to the former activity relative to the latter. Largely ignorant to the exact make of Raven’s throat and the amount of pleasure it was capable of squeezing across Corentin’s length, she chose to operate under the assumption that its depths were similar to her own. Paying no mind to the shuddering of Raven’s frame and the vibration of her vocal cords, she vigorously plunged her lips from their spread at the tip of his cock down to feature-smearing impressions against his crotch within seconds of one another. Eyes focused on Corentin’s face throughout, she used the state of his features as a means of gauging the potency of her manipulations and adjusting them further.

At the sight of the first significant twinge of pleasure they produced, further encouragement burst from her lips as water from a century-worn dam.

“Do you approve of my solution, Corentin  ♥ ?” she asked, sweetly. “You’ll feel much better if you dump out the rest of your cockjuice into Friend Raven’s stomach. She was observing our intimacy rather hungrily the past few minutes, so doing so would make her very happy as well!”

“She is one of the ‘Baby Fuckers’ in the same way I am! You need not think about anything that doesn’t involve fattening her stomach with semen  ♥ !”

Understandably, those subjected to Starfire’s utterances met them with mixed responses. Whereas Corentin appeared to become more enraptured in the sensation of pliant, yet-fucked esophagus flesh quivering around his sex-rawed shaft, Raven was forced into a state of introspection that she’d have preferred to avoid.

In this state, she could not help but acknowledge that Starfire was right. Despite having her cheeks and nostrils repeatedly punched against a crotch lathered with her best friend’s throatslop and the virile stink of an ostensibly little boy’s semen, no part of her circumstance genuinely bothered her. 

Nothing about it should have been enjoyable. Her face was repeatedly smothered into slop; her esophagus was repeatedly fattened by cockmeat; her inanely weak gag-reflex was churning spittle to fruition at the back of her throat; everything that it concerned was awful by definition.

But not for her.

Accustomed to the same level of slovenly brutality that Starfire had imposed on herself, Raven quickly found herself deriving more stimulation from her ordeal from anything else. In response to it, she began tracking the throbbing of Corentin’s cock, and with time abandoned the physical rigidity she had used to ‘protest’ against Starfire’s strong arming.

Understandably, these things evoked dissonance within her; a paltry amount relative to the euphoria she enjoyed, but one sufficient to fill her mind with thoughts about where she was and what she was doing—

None of which were positive.

“…Why am I even still friends with Starifre, anyway? I guess I know the answer to that question, but I also know that it has nothing to do with choking on some kid’s cock…” she huffed, internally. “It fucking tastes like Starfire’s throat, too. He dumped most of his jizz onto her face, so everything that’s still on it is getting glazed inside of my throat.” 

“This brat just needs to fucking cum already. What is it with brats today and needing to get off more than once, any—”

*BLORT ♥ !*

By busying herself with daydreaming, Raven artificially shortened the length of her ‘ordeal’. Amidst her second minute of thought, the over-stimulated state of Corentin’s cock endured a sufficient amount of stimulation to impose a second orgasm on the tiny youth’s frame, and through this discharge another repulsive quantity of cockjuice into the humid orifice that surrounded it.

Unlike his first, this one was only  _ slightly _ overwhelming. While released in the form of a massive, hose-width flourish that defied reason, its contents were denied the ability to ‘inundate’ the stretches of esophagus flesh they were flushed into. By virtue of the well-trained nature of Raven’s depths and a sudden depression of her lips to the root of Corentin’s cock, the majority of his orgasm was delivered into her stomach without issue.

Needless to say, the details concerning the ‘how’ of this happening were no less graphic for its simplicity. When met with the first bulbous surge of semen that his cock produced, Raven’s esophagus adopted a contractive rigidity ‘learnt’ by the smooth muscle to discourage the formation of blockages. Through it, the gullet-swelling burst was ‘compressed’ from its point of delivery down across several inches of esophagus lining ahead of it. Divided, dragging its contents into her stomach became as ‘simple’ as swallowing for Raven.

And swallow she did. Obscenely familiar with how best to handle overly-virile semen, she heartily gulped the trail of esophagus-plumping nut made within her gullet down into her stomach over the course of several *GLURP* and *GLRSH* narrated seconds. Dogged constantly by additional volumes of semen that burst out of the tip of Corentin’s cock, she calibrated her gulps to ensure that her esophagus was spared the sort of nauseating clogging that she often endured when draining her own suitor. Aided in this by the thinned nature of Corentin’s release, the passage of time safely delivered every blurt of semen he produced into the base of her stomach until a healthy pool of the substance took shape…

Every blurt save one. Right before the end of the boy’s protracted release, the hurried nature of Corentin’s release resulted in Raven mistiming one of her gulps. 

Made to slip for only a moment, the price that she paid for this was regurgitation. Suddenly subjected to an orgasm-inducing engorgement of her esophagus with semen, her innards did what they were programmed to do in the face of a blockage. All at once, the contents of the off-color blurt and a fraction of her stomach’s payload were squeezed back up through her esophagus into her mouth. 

‘Blocked’ from traditional regurgitation by the surface of Corentin’s crotch, compressed blurts and splutters of the substance pressed their way out of her skull from her smothered nostrils and the corners of her lips. No less bulbous or muddy for the time they had spent within her, their contents were merely sectioned into wads that her plugged orifices could stand releasing. These discharged over the course of several painstaking seconds, the gurgling discharges came to an end at the same moment that Corentin’s orgasm did.

Appropriately, this was where Raven’s placid participation ended. Closed eyes opening in the projection of a scowl, she invoked a fraction of her magic and focused it on the hands that her friend had placed on her back and skull. Wrenching them out of contact with her frame, she subsequently dragged her lips from the root of Corentin’s cock back up through several blubber-stymied inches of ascent until her lips slipped off of the nose of his cock.

Fearful of what further regurgitation might mean for the infant bundled at her chest, she made no attempt at closing her lips once free. 

Frankly, she did not attempt much of anything at all. Content with the ‘safety’ inherent to tilting her head backwards and presenting the miniature swamp of semi-solid nut that persisted at the back of her throat, she engaged in this and nothing else well after the end of Corentin’s release.

Pleasantly mesmerized by the sight of her semen-clogged gullet and pube-flecked cheeks, the precautions that she took resulted in Corentin defaulting to silence for a second time. Now wholly satisfied, standing in the haze of his orgasm and taking in the sights she offered became far more worthwhile to him than any form of activity.

Made the final ‘link’ in a chain of responses, Starfire took Corentin’s empty-eyed stare as a sign of success. Unbothered by the fact that she had been forced out of position by Raven, the sight of him moved her to produce a smiling exclamation very similar to her last.

If one did not know any better, the timing of it all might lead them to assume that everything had progressed as she hoped it would.

“Thank you, Friend Raven  ♥ . Corentin looks properly satisfied now, and I have you to thank for this.” she began, warmly. “Should you ever need me to relieve your husband while I feed my child, I will do the same without hesitation!”

“And Corentin! Do not forget to thank Friend Raven for being so helpful. If she was not already so used to having her face used as the cocksleeve, relieving you would have been much more difficult!”

Addressed, neither Raven nor Corentin attempted to produce a response.

Even if they were capable of doing so, they wouldn’t have—

Starfire had stated enough already.


End file.
